Write Your Soul Down
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: Marriage is difficult, pregnancy and parenthood is difficult. Now multiply that tenfold thanks to a wiped memory, and marriage, pregnancy and parenthood just got a hell of a lot harder. AU, Established McGiva.
1. Chapter 1

**Write Your Soul Down**

 **Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Summary: Marriage is difficult, pregnancy and parenthood is difficult. Now multiply that tenfold thanks to a wiped memory, and marriage, pregnancy and parenthood just got a hell of a lot harder. AU, Established McGiva.**

 **A/N: I'm gonna kill my sister-in-law. I find all these started stories, and yet, somehow, she's hidden the folder with all her currently continued stories in it. Oh well, I'll keep looking.- Licia**

 _Take your head around the world_  
 _See what you get_  
 _From your mind_  
 _Write your soul down word for word_  
 _See who's your friend_  
 _Who is kind_  
 _It's almost like a disease_  
 _I know soon you will be_

 _Over the lies, you'll be strong_  
 _You'll be rich in love and you will carry on_  
 _But no - oh no_  
 _No you won't be mine_

\- Matchbox Twenty,

You Won't Be Mine,

Mad Season album,

2000

His eyes snapped open; the never-ending silence that had once enveloped him was now gone... the noises that greeted him were too loud, the colors too bright, the smells too intense.

The hand that held his squeezed hard, the short, blunt nails cutting into his skin, the voice was soft, comforting, not that he noticed. No, he was too focused on struggling to swallow, to breathe, to speak... and doctors were too focused on getting him to relax long enough so they could remove the tube from his throat.

Finally, he was free, able to breathe and swallow and speak-

"Do you know where you are?"

He winced as the doctor, a Jeanne Beniot, shone a small circle of light into his eyes. "H.. pital..."

"Good. And can you tell me your name?" She asked, shutting off the light and holding a finger up, slowly moving it back and forth, watching as his green eyes followed.

"T... Timothy McGee..."

"Okay. And what year is it?"

He swallowed, wincing at the rawness of his throat. "Ah... two... two-thousand-seven."

"That's good. And... do you know these men?" His gaze followed as she turned, gesturing to the three men standing at the foot of the bed. All three were dressed in nice suits, all waiting anxiously for him to speak.

"G... Gibbs..." He nodded to the Team Leader on the far left; a small smile of relief flitted across the older man's face. "And... Ducky..."

"We're glad you're awake, Timothy."

"And... T... To... Tony."

"Good." Dr. Beniot glanced to the side, and slowly, Tim followed her. "And do you know who she is?"

He furrowed a brow, drinking in everything about her- her dark curls were held back with a black cloth headband, and she wore a long, loose, blue plaid blouse on over a pair of black leggings. A gold Star of David hung around her neck, and she gave him a small smile as she squeezed his hand; perched on the edge of the chair, she watched him anxiously with misty dark eyes. She looked to be a year or two younger than he himself. "Hi sweetheart." She quickly reached up, brushing a wayward tear off her cheek; the flash of a gold wedding ring sparked in the light. "I am so glad you are awake. You scared me."

"I..." He turned back to Dr. Beniot, confusion in his green gaze. "I'm sorry, but... I'm draw... drawing a blank. Can... can you remind me? Please?" The doctor gave him a quick, soft smile.

"This is-"

"Ziva." The woman rested a hand to her chest. "My name is Ziva." He turned back to the woman sitting by his side.

"Okay. And... we're... what, exactly? Neighbors? Roommates? Coworkers? Friends?"

She chuckled softly. "All of the above, Tim." She held up the hand on which her wedding ring rested. "We are husband and wife."

He didn't hear Ducky and Tony excuse themselves, offering their congrats that he was okay. Gibbs, however, stayed. After a few quick checks were run, Dr. Beniot excused herself, leaving only the couple and their boss. Gibbs made his way to the window, giving the couple privacy, though he listened carefully.

"Married? You... you and I?" She nodded, lifting his hand to show an identical white gold wedding band.

"Yes... four years this... this May sixteenth. It was..." She glanced at Gibbs before turning back to him. "a small ceremony in Gibbs's backyard... our honeymoon was in... we went to Fiji for two weeks." She stopped, glancing down at his hand. "I thought... I thought I was going to lose you, and I... I can't lose you, Tim."

"Why?"

But she just stood, leaning over the bed. Her small fingers brushed through his hair as their eyes locked. A tiny smile graced her lips, and she leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you, Timothy." He met her gaze, struggling to figure out where he'd met her before, but kept drawing a blank. Her teeth slid out to grasp her lower lip, and slowly she took a seat beside him on the bed, pulling his hand back into her lap. She played with his fingers, lost in thought.

"Are you okay?"

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder, catching Ziva's eye; she was pale, shaky- clearly this three month ordeal was taking its toll on her-

She felt sick, though managed to keep the bile rising in her throat down. How did she tell him? How did she even manage to broach the subject now? It was evident he didn't remember her; though Dr. Beniot had said that tests would need to be done to determine the extent of the damage, it didn't look, to Ziva, as though he was going to remember her. And the word the doctor had used kept tangling in her stomach, pushing her worst fears to light- fears that now might becoming true.

 _Amnesia._

There was a chance Tim could have amnesia from the accident, that it might be anterograde amnesia- the loss of the ability to recall memories from the recent past. She hoped to God it wasn't true.

"Fine." Her free hand moved up, resting over her shirt; his gaze followed, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Are you sure? You... you don't look well. I'm sorry if I upset you because I don't remember you-"

But Ziva shook her head, giving him a tiny smile; it was the kind of smile a woman wore when she was hiding something from her husband, something she wasn't exactly ready to reveal just yet. "I am fine, Tim, I just... the last three months have been hard. Harder than they should be. Because you have not been here; you have not been able to watch me grow. And especially since... since you were so excited when we found out."

"Found out what?"

She glanced back at Gibbs, who shrugged softly and returned his gaze to the window, though he could watch their reflections in the darkness of the glass, the lights of D.C., at night warping them just slightly. Slowly, Ziva swallowed, turning back to her husband. She took a deep breath, gently pressing his hand against her stomach, before she met his gaze. "About... the baby, Tim."

"What baby?"

Tears filled her eyes as she smiled softly at him, whispering,

"I... we... I'm pregnant."


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: Okay, from what I can figure out, this lovely little story of Zani's follows the whole rest of Ziva's pregnancy- from twenty weeks on- and Tim's recovery. Seems like it should be quick and easy to edit and upload, and then I can focus on everything else she has here... and everything else I _can't_ find.- Licia**

 **Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai and Sazzita for reviewing 1.**

"P... _pregnant_?"

Ziva nodded, seeing the fear in his green eyes. "Yes. We... we are having a... a little boy... I... I'm twenty weeks... and I... I've decided on... on Amal, which means... it means 'hope' in Arabic. Perfect for our son... because that... that is all I have held onto since... since the accident..."

 _Accident?_ But something else nagged at him and he swallowed, slowly cutting her off. "Is it... mine?"

Her head snapped up, dark eyes widening in shock, and after a moment, she got up, pulling away. Tears began to well in her eyes. "Of _course_ it is yours! How could it _not be yours_? How could this not be your son growing in my belly? You are the _only_ man I lay with, the _only man_ I've _ever_ slept with, from the _moment_ of our marriage! _How dare you!_ "

"I... I'm sorry, I just... I just don't... I don't remember-"

But Gibbs quickly moved from the window, grabbing Ziva's arm and her forcefully towards the door. "Come on, Ziver-"

"No, Gibbs, _please_ -" Nurses rushed into the room, Dr. Beniot following to check on McGee as Gibbs finally managed to yank the expectant mother out into the hall where the rest of the team were waiting, further down the hall in the waiting room. _"Let me go_! I have to talk to him, I have to make him understand... how  dare he ask if this baby is his-"

 _"Ziva!"_ Gibbs grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently. "Ziva, _listen_ to me. He _doesn't_ remember you. He doesn't remember your marriage or the baby... he just came out of a _three-month long coma_ , and you threw a lot of information at him in a matter of minutes. Tim is just _trying_ to process everything he's been told, and figure out where you fit into his life at the moment. His question wasn't meant to harm or insult, it was just an attempt to gather more information. It's what his brain does, remember? He's just trying to make sense of everything, and you getting upset at him because of something that's out of his control isn't going to help the situation."

She choked on a sob. "I just... I have waited _three months_ , Gibbs. Three months for my husband to come out of that coma; I have dreamt of him every night from the moment of that accident... I have felt our child grow within me... I went through the first three months of my pregnancy _without_ him... our son needs him... _I need him_..." She broke down, the stress of the situation, of the last several days, the fear that she could lose him... all of it finally took its toll.

Gibbs allowed her to curl into him, her head resting aginst his shoulder; he held her close, the tears gathering in his eyes as he gently stroked her hair, trying his hardest to comfort her in any way he could. "Shh, hush, Ziver. It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."

 _"How can you know that, Gibbs? He does not remember me... or our baby..."_

"Gibbs?" He looked up, to find Abby make their way towards them; Ziva's outburst had brought the rest of the team from the waiting room just down the hall. "Is McGee okay?"

The team leader sighed. "He's awake, Abbs."

"Well then... that... that's good, right?" She nodded, agreeing with herself. "But... if McGee's awake, then why is Ziva so-"

"Tim does... he does not remember me..." Ziva choked on a sob as she pulled away from Gibbs, turning to the rest of the team. "He... he does not remember the baby we made... he..."

"From what I can discern at this point, it appears that Agent McGee has sustained anterograde amnesia from the accident." They turned as Dr. Beniot stepped out of the room removing her gloves. She turned to study them, before beckoning; slowly, they followed her back to the waiting room. Once there, she took a seat beside Ziva and Gibbs, a soft sigh escaping her throat.

"What's wrong with young Timothy, Dr. Beniot?" Ducky asked. The good doctor swallowed.

"I think he has a mixture of retrograde and anterograde amnesia- he can create new memories and recall old memories up until the last few months, when the accident happened. The common term for this specific type of amnesia is post-traumatic amnesia; it is normally caused by a head injury from an accident. In regards to the retrograde portion, he can remember older memories- memories from his childhood, from when he first joined NCIS, and the anterograde, well, let me put it this way- any new memories made before the day of the accident are gone. He can't recall them. It's not uncommon for a person with amnesia to forget specific people, unfortunately in this case, Agent McGee has forgotten his wife and child."

Ziva took a deep breath, reaching up and quickly wiping at the tears on her cheeks, her other hand coming down to cradle her belly. "So... he won't... ever remember me? Or... or the baby?"

"He may, but it will take time for his memory to return. And you- all of you- need to make this transition as easy as you possibly can. It's going to be hard enough for him to adjust knowing that he was in an accident as well as a coma, and throw in a marriage and a baby he may not remember-"

"The baby I understand, because we found the day of the accident, but... Shouldn't he remember that I'm his wife? Dr. Beniot, we've been married four years, shouldn't Tim remember that?"

The other woman sighed, glancing at the others on the team. "Ziva, you need to understand. Tim had major swelling of the brain- we lost him twice on the operating table before we were able to bring him back and finish the operation before he slipped into the coma. That much swelling can do serious damage. Major events like a wedding and a marriage may be something he remembers, but it will take time. He won't recall everything right away; this isn't TV. On television, a person wakes up from a coma and remembers everything before and after the coma. In real life, it's different- _exceedingly_ different. It'll take Tim months to remember everything; it's going to be an extremely long, tedious process, his recovery, and you all need to be there helping him through it."

They all nodded, before Ziva took a deep breath. She quietly cleared her throat, asking, "Can... may I see him? Please, Dr. Beniot? I just... I just want to be with my husband."

The doctor nodded. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call for the nurses." With a quick smile, Ziva stood, rushing off down the hall. The others watched her go.

"You're gonna have to keep a close eye on them both, Agent Gibbs. All of you are- this situation... this stress... it's not good for Tim, it's not good for Ziva, and certainly for the baby."


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

He looked up as the door shut softly, his gaze tugged from the window towards the woman making her way towards him. He realized, as she got closer, that it was the woman who called herself his wife, the woman who was carrying his baby...

"Ziva, right?"

She smiled softly once she reached the side of the bed, watching as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. Without a word, she rushed to help adjust the pillows before perching on the edge. "Yeah."

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" His gaze flicked to her stomach, but she shook her head, reaching out to take his hand.

"No, just... I have been waiting for you to come out of this coma for three months and now... I am just happy you are awake." Her free hand moved to rest against her belly; this ever present need to protect their child from the harsh reality of what fate had befallen them while it still resided within her womb was strong, as strong as her desire to take her husband by the shoulders and shake him roughly, to scream at him to remember her, remember them, and the baby they'd created-

"Is it moving?" Once more, his gaze moved to her stomach, confused concern filling his eyes. "The baby?"

She met his gaze, shaking her head. "No... it's too early... I won't start feeling movement until twenty-five weeks, from what Jeanne said."

"Jeanne?"

"Dr. Beniot? She's an obstetrician and a neurosurgeon, though she deals more in delivering babies than fixing brains." He nodded slowly, digesting the information. Ziva could tell her husband was storing it away in that mind of his- that beautiful, brilliant mind of his that had wiped clean any memories of her and their life together. A moment passed, before he swallowed.

"Um... I... I'm sorry, but... how long did you say we've been married for?"

She bit her lip. "Four years. We... we got married on May sixteenth, at Gibbs's place, in his backyard. And we spent our honeymoon in Fiji. Remember?"

He screwed up his face, struggling to recall any images of backyard weddings or Fiji honeymoons, but eventually shook his head. "No... I... I don't. I'm sorry."

Ziva nodded, glancing down at their hands. "It... it's okay. When you come home, I'll show you the video."

"Home? Where is that?"

She looked up at him, swallowing. "We live in a brownstone, in the historic part of Georgetown. It's two floors. We bought it... not long after we got engaged. Remember, love?"

He glanced at their hands, studying their joined fingers... yes, there was something there, in the back of his mind... the smell of paint invaded his senses, and the overwhelming feel of exhaustion after a long day of moving settled briefly into his bones. "Vaguely. Did we... paint the place?"

"Yeah, the bedrooms in the upper floor. Took us three days, but we did it all ourselves... moved all the furniture in with the teams' help and... had our first dinner party on the living room floor, eating delivery pizza from-"

"Paper plates."

"That's right. You remember that night?"

He shrugged. "Kind of. It's hazy, but-"

"But it's a start." She finished, hiccuping. They let the silence settle around them, both too unsure of how to address the current problem staring them in the face. Finally, Tim spoke up, his gaze latching onto the small swell of her middle.

"You aren't very big for twenty weeks." Ziva followed his gaze, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

"It's common for a woman in her first pregnancy to not show so soon. I may be small at the moment-"

"But it won't last." He finished, and she nodded, head snapping up. Fresh tears came to her eyes; it was common for Tim to finish her thoughts... so common that Tony often joked that they shared one brain, split between them. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" She nodded, choking on a sob, the tears coming fast and strong now, increased not just from the situation-

"Damn hormones. I have been nothing but weepy and girly for the last three months, over the tiniest things."

"What's wrong with being girly? My younger sister went through three years of elementary school where she wore nothing but pink dresses. There's nothing wrong with girly-ness; it's just another aspect of your personality." Ziva sniffled, wiping at her nose.

"You remember Sarah?"

"Of course I remember Sarah. She's my baby sister-"

 _But you don't remember me or our child._ She quickly shook the thought away. At least he was talking to her, despite the rawness of his voice, the blankness of his memories of her, the confusion in his eyes, at least he was talking to her, as opposed to completely shutting her out.

It was a start.

A start she could live with, if it meant getting her husband back in the long run.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She got up, going to the closet across from the bed. Since the accident, she'd spent more time at the hospital, not only for her prenatal check ups, but also because she didn't want to leave him unless he woke up, and so she'd brought a few things, leaving them in the closet. A moment passed, before she returned to her place beside him on the bed, holding out the book. Slowly, he took it, glancing at her.

 _My Journey, from Being in Mommy's Tummy to Being in Mommy and Daddy's Arms_

A baby book, hardbound with a soft cover, the title written out in what appeared to be glittering craft glue, and beneath it was the baby's name, _Amal_ , in yellow scrapbook cutout letters across the bottom. The book itself was light pink and green. Tim glanced at her.

"I was raised in Israel. My _Ima_ \- my mother-believed that... that pink was a boy's color and blue a girl's, because-"

"Pink is closer to red, which symbolizes masculinity, and blue symbolizes femininity. I... took a course on stereotypes in college once, and that was one of the things we had to study." She blushed, nodding. Without another word, he slowly opened the book to the first page, where a photograph of he and Ziva stared up at him. Taken on their wedding day, Ziva was curled into his side, one arm around his neck as he wrapped an arm around her waist; their eyes were locked on each other, brilliant smiles on their faces, their free hands linked together. Over the photograph were the words,

 _My Ima (Mommy) and Abba (Daddy)_

 _Ziva David and Timothy McGee on their wedding day,_

 _May 16th_

He studied the photograph, searching for any form or recognition, but he came up empty. Ziva had to force herself to remain beside him, to keep from grabbing his face and ordering him to remember her, as Dr. Beniot's words rang loud in her head.

 _"He won't recall everything right away; this isn't TV. It's going to take time; it's going to be an extremely long, tedious process, his recovery, and you need to be there helping him through it."_

"It... it looks familiar, but..."

"It does?" He nodded once, before slowly shaking his head.

"But I can't place it, I'm sorry."

She gave him a watery smile. _Looks familiar_ , he'd said. _It_ looks _familiar._

Though it wasn't what she wanted, it was a start, to getting him back to where she wanted him to be.

 _Looks familiar._

By God, she'd take it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: Sorry, looks like one more hospital scene before Zani gets into the real... never mind. Here's the chapter.- Licia**

She watched in silence as he studied each page of the book that was done, the photographs and measurements, the symptoms and happenings as their son grew within her. "Sarah took each of the pictures- of me during each week. I... I kind of figured... even though you weren't here, for the first... nineteen weeks or so, you could still experience it."

"It's... beautiful." He whispered, his gaze landing on the photograph he'd glanced over at the beginning of the book- on the opposite page of the back of the first one, were the words,

 _Ima and Abba's Love Resulted... in Me!_

Beneath the writing was a photograph of a positive pregnancy test, and a photograph taken by Sarah, of the pair. Ziva was grinning madly as she handed the test to her husband, and Sarah had managed to snap the photograph at the exact moment that excited realization had shown up on her brother's face. Beneath the photograph was the date,

 _December 10th_

"We found out in December. It was... the best Christmas present, the best Hanukkah present, either of us could ever receive. I'd never seen you so happy, so... excited." She stopped, sniffling, tears running down her cheeks. "And then... in an instant... everything changed."

He watched her, before closing the book and setting it aside. "What happened? The day of the... accident?"

Ziva took a deep breath. Should she tell him? Did she have the _right_ to tell him? Or would it put more stress on him than he needed at the moment? Because the last thing she wanted was to cause her husband unnecessary stress when she'd just gotten him back from a coma. Adjusting to everything- to work again, to their marriage, their life together, to the baby as he grew, and the birth... that would be stress enough.

"I..." She stopped, meeting his gaze briefly. "I don't know if I should tell you. I don't know if... if Jeanne would allow it."

"Allow what?" The couple turned; Jeanne slipped into the room, a sphygmomanometer around her neck. "Sorry, didn't mean to eavesdrop, just want to check his blood pressure and change his IV."

"If I should... Tim asked... about the accident. Should I-" She watched as the woman quickly checked his blood pressure. "Can I?"

"It's up to you. I would advise waiting, but if Tim asked-"

"I did ask, Dr. Beniot." The other woman nodded.

"Then there's your answer." Once she finished changing the IV, she leaned down. "Only you can judge how much information is too much, Ziva." She straightened. "I'll be back to check on you in an hour or two. If you need anything, don't hesitate to get a hold of me or any of the nurses." They nodded, and once she was gone, he turned back to his wife.

"Please."

After a moment, Ziva nodded, shifting on the bed. She rested her fingers against her belly, stroking over the material that covered her middle as she spoke. "We'd just found out a few hours earlier... and... we'd invited the team over for dinner..." She stopped. "I'm sorry, Tim, I can't. Not now..."

He nodded. "It... it's okay. I... I think I can guess... car accident?" Slowly, she nodded. "Must have been a pretty bad one if I ended up in a coma." She laughed softly; he was trying to joke, to lessen the fear and panic and pain she felt... her heart swelled momentarily at his efforts. Even if he didn't remember her right now, it didn't mean that he didn't want to try to make her feel better, that he didn't still feel something for her, despite his damaged memories. "So you're... twenty weeks?"

"Yeah. And he's... growing big and strong as we speak." Silence soon filled the room, that awkward silence that made even the best situations the most painful to sit through. She shifted closer, until her hip rested gently against his. "Jeanne said... that you could go home in a week... I will be twenty-one weeks by then... if you want... we can... go to my appointment after you check out... I would love to have you there... and I know Amal would too... he wants his _Abba_ to be there to see him..." She swallowed thickly. "Please, Tim. I know you don't remember me, or our son, but-"

"Of course. I... I want to be there. I... I don't know why, but..." Gently, he reached up, brushing the tears from her cheeks. She covered his hand with hers, pressing his palm to her cheek. A moment passed before she turned, brushing a firm kiss to the center of his palm- "Ouch! What was that for?" He yanked his hand away, a glare flashing across his features.

Her tongue darted out to nervously wet her lips. "Sorry. I... I have a tendency to... to nip... what do you call them?"

"Love bites?"

She nodded. "Funny thing is... you've always seen it as a challenge... 'love writ on her arms', I guess you could say. Just a... a way of reminding me that I love you and that you love me." She sighed. "I won't do it again."

He quickly shook his hand. "No, it... it's okay, it just... startled me, I guess." Their gazes locked. "I would do that same to you?"

"Vigorously."

Without a word, she reached up, cradling his face in her hand; her thumb brushed against the apple of his cheek, before she moved down to grasp gently at his chin, searching his eyes. She saw maybe a flash of brief recognition amid the confusion, but nothing that indicated he truly remembered her, other than from what she'd told him. She thumbed his bottom lip softly-

"Ow!" She pulled away, examining the soft flesh of her thumb.

"Sorry. Did I bite too hard?" Her gaze moved back to his, fresh tears welling in her eyes as she realized that all he'd been trying to do was return the nip. She shook her head. "No." Silently, she reached up, taking his face in her hands as she leaned down, their lips inches apart. In a voice choked with tears, she whispered, "It was perfect."


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: Okay, now this starts off the rest of the story... - Licia**

 _Week Twenty-One_

"Ready?"

He looked up as she made her way towards him. Her weight had started to shift, thanks to her joints loosening due to her growing middle, and the swell of her abdomen was noticeable now. "Yeah." He stood, pulling on the over shirt lying beside him. "So... your appointment, right?" She nodded; Ziva had come in the day before and picked up their things, taking them from the closet back to the brownstone. She'd tucked Amal's baby book safely in the bookcase in the nursery, where it waited for them to update it at the end of the week.

"Yeah. You sure you don't mind accompanying me?"

They slipped out of the room, heading to the nurse's station, where Tim quickly signed himself out, before allowing Ziva to lead the way to the maternity ward, where Jeanne's office was. "It's my baby, right?" She stopped, turning to him. A moment passed before she nodded. "Then I should be there." He gave her a small smile, one fraught with nerves and worry, and Ziva smiled back, appreciating the effort he was putting in, despite the obvious confusion he felt.

She held out a hand. "Come on."

His green gaze quickly darted to her hand, and she waited a moment, before nodding and slowly dropping her hand. _One step at a time, Ziva. At least he agreed to come, that's something._

He followed, staying silent, before they reached the office and signed in. The assistant led them to an empty exam room, saying that Jeanne would be in soon. Ziva settled on the bed, her hands immediately going to her belly. She watched Tim out of the corner of her eye; he was sitting in the chair, gaze darting around the room, one leg nervously bouncing up and down. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I'll understand; you don't remember me or our son, so you have no reason to stay-"

"No, I... I want to stay." She met his gaze, and after a moment, nodded. They sat in silence, waiting, unsure of how to react to the other's presence-

"Sorry I'm late. My other patient went over." The couple turned as Jeanne slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. "How you doing, Tim?" He shrugged. "Glad to be out of the hospital?"

"Not out of the hospital yet."

Jeanne chuckled, quickly pulling up Ziva's file and jotting a couple things down before going to the expectant mother and pulling out her stethoscope. She rested the diaphragm against Ziva's chest. "Breathe deep for me." Ziva did as told, and Jeanne moved it. "And again." She then moved it to Ziva's back. "Breathe in." Another move, to the other side of the mother's back. "One more time." A moment passed, before she quickly removed the device, hanging it back around her neck. "Good girl."

"Have you seen the images of your baby, yet, Tim?" Jeanne asked, as Ziva laid back on the table. She quickly pushed the woman's shirt up, revealing the swell that had taken over her middle. Tim sat up, suddenly fascinated.

"Yeah... the... pictures in the book..." He got up, joining Jeanne on the other side. Ziva glanced at him, reaching out a hand.

"Couldn't resist, _ahuva_?" She joked, glancing at his face. He turned to her, studying her for a moment, before shrugging. Her smile faltered, but she quickly covered it up, turning back to Jeanne, who glanced at the pair out of the corner of her eye. She'd seen the way he'd reacted to Ziva's asking to hold his hand, but didn't call him on it. It wasn't her place, not now; and besides, Tim had just gotten out of a coma the week before.

He was bound to be distant towards Ziva while he tried to adjust and figure out his connection to her.

"She's starting to show." Jeanne nodded.

"Yes, she is... at exactly the time a mommy should..." She looked up. "Do you want to feel?"

He furrowed a brow. "Feel what?"

Ziva snorted softly, turning back to her husband. "Your baby, silly. Our baby."

Tim suddenly backed up, holding his hands out. "I... I don't think so. I... no thank you."

"Okay, if you're sure." Jeanne replied, turning her attention back to her work. She moved away, going to the bottom cupboard of the counter and pulling out a portable fetal monitor. Without a word, she hooked it up, running it over Ziva's belly for several minutes. "Everything looks good, you two."

The Israeli slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position. "He is okay?" She asked, resting a hand on her belly. Jeanne nodded.

"Perfectly healthy. Now," She grabbed a pad, quickly jotting a few things down. "I want you to have blood drawn- just usual checkup, make sure everything's okay, that there are no anomalies... head home... oh, and I am giving you the next three weeks off, so that you two can get to know each other again and get situated back into some semblance of normalcy, like you had before the accident. Doctor's orders; you have a note." She turned to Tim, quickly jotting a name and number down on the pad. "And when you're ready, this is the number of a Rachel Cranston; she's a psychologist here in private practice in the D.C., area- when you're ready, Tim, I want you to see her. Talk to her, get her input on these next few months, especially as it gets closer and closer to the baby being born. Now go home, get some rest, both of you, and try to reconnect. Work on the baby's book together. Talk. And if I find out either of you have gone into work-"

Ziva nodded. "I get it, thanks, Jeanne." Tim nodded, following Ziva out of the room. As they climbed into the car, he looked at her, his narrowed gaze going to the swell of her midsection.

"Baby's okay?" He asked, eyes narrowing. She turned to him, meeting his gaze with a nod.

"Baby's okay."

Instead of replying, Tim nodded once, before turning his gaze to the passenger window.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Welcome home, Tim."

He looked around, struggling to remember aspects of their life together in this house, but kept drawing a blank. Dr. Beniot _had_ said that it would take time-

"You want something to drink? Tim?"

"Sorry?"

"You want something to drink? I was gonna fix tea."

He watched her go towards the kitchen to the right, but didn't move from the foyer. "Um... s... sure... if that's all right."

"Of course it's all right, why wouldn't it be?"

"I... don't know."

Without another word, he made his way to the left, towards the living room; bookcases filled the back wall, a desk and computer sat in the corner, with the sofa facing the TV, which sat above the fireplace. Silently, he turned from the room, going back into the foyer, and glancing towards the kitchen. Ziva was babbling on about something, not that she noticed he wasn't listening. His gaze flicked to the staircase before him, and after a moment, he made his way upstairs.

The hallway was silent, darkened, with doors on either side. A quick check to the left brought the master, with an attached bath; he hurriedly closed the door, before moving down the hall. A check provided two guest rooms, another bathroom and-

He stopped, reaching out to grab the doorknob. If the other two rooms were guest rooms, then that meant this one was the nursery.

But did he really want to step inside, and see the room where the son he didn't even know about, didn't remember, would sleep?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed the door open, poking his head in. It was dark, so naturally, he reached in, flicking the light on.

The nursery was small, the walls painted a soft green and outlined in pink, the furniture lovingly hand-carved. A rocking chair sat in the corner near the window, a blanket draped over the back. He turned to the other furniture- a changing table, dresser, toy chest, crib... all the essentials expected within a baby's room. But his gaze returned to the chair, and after a moment, he made his way towards it and lifted the blanket from it.

The blanket was soft, sewn from hundreds of tiny squares in shades of green and blue. In the center of the blanket, was a symbol- a Jewish Star of David and a Celtic knot entangled together. Above the symbol was the baby's name, and below was the meaning of his name- _Amal_ and _Hope_ \- both stitched in white thread.

" _Ima_ made it."

He turned, startled, to find Ziva standing in the doorway, two cups of tea in her hands. She set them both on the dresser top, making her way towards him. The blanket feel from his hands, and he quickly knelt down to pick it up, feeling his wife's eyes on him, that same stare he'd been giving her for the last week and a half when he was studying her. "Sorry.. who?"

Gently, Ziva took the blanket, folding it until the symbol stared up at them. "Rivka, my mother. You've met her. You probably don't remember- she was here for Passover last year. She made it a couple months ago, sent it here from Israel. I told her the name, and she made it for us. Amal works as both a boy's name and a girl's, so it wasn't a problem for her to make it." She returned it to the chair, before going to the closet across from the crib, beside the dresser. "Gibbs made the furniture, and Tony and Abby helped me paint it. I wanted to surprise you when you came home."

He turned, watching a she removed something from the closet. She moved to join him, and he realized it was a tiny white coat with blue buttons, the perfect size for a newborn. " _Ima_ made this too... she made several things for the baby... coats and hats and mittens and booties... she loves to sew, and since this is her first grandchild..." Without a word, she held it over her belly; Tim scoffed gently, a smile tugging at his lips. Ziva met his gaze, folding the coat and resting it on the arm of the rocking chair. "Well, clearly she got carried away."

"Not necessarily. Babies need a lot of things after they're born." He replied, looking around the room. On one of the shelves screwed into the wall was a photograph- a different one from the wedding photograph in the book. In this one, they were sitting together on the bottom steps of a staircase; Ziva was sitting on the step below him, nestled between her legs, her back against his front, and he had his arms around her. Their hands rested over her belly, forming a heart, and both were grinning at the camera- the message was clear.

"We took that the day we found out. Sarah took it for us... I don't think either of us had ever been so excited about something in our entire lives before that moment." She moved closer, sliding an arm around his waist cautiously. His gaze moved to hers, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she moved closer, resting her head against his chest. "I am just glad you are alive... even if you don't remember our life or our son..." She lifted her head, meeting his gaze as he pulled away.

Tim stumbled back, holding his hands out, keeping her at arms length. "I... look, I'm sorry that I don't remember you or the baby, but..." He stopped, seeing the tears in her eyes. She nodded, giving him a small smile.

"It's okay, I... I understand. I just... the last few months have been... torture without you... feeling our baby grow and knowing that you weren't there to see it..." But she quickly shook her head, giving him a big smile before collecting the two mugs from the dresser and holding one out to him. "How about a toast?"

He raised an eyebrow. "To what?" She shrugged.

"To..." Her gaze darted around the room, before she stopped and glanced down at her belly. "To our son." They locked gazes. "To the new new beginning his presence brings and... and the hope that... that he can help us find what we lost."

Slowly, Tim nodded, holding the mug out. "To our son." A smile graced Ziva's lips and they clicked mugs, gazes locking over the rims.


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

She reached out, grabbing his wrist as he moved past her. "Tim, I won't bite... okay, I nip, but... but not hard. You don't have to sleep in the guest room. This is _our_ bed, you can _sleep_ in _our_ bed."

He studied her for a moment, before pulling away. "I'd... rather not. Not tonight, if that's okay."

Slowly, Ziva nodded. "Sure. Just tonight?"

He hesitated momentarily before nodding once. Satisfied, she let him go, watching as he slipped out of the bedroom, leaving her alone in the dark. She understood, she did- waking up from a coma, discovering marriage, with a baby on the way, and then the very real possibility that he would share his bed with a woman he was supposed to remember...

 _It's his biggest fear, waking up in bed married to a stranger._

She wrapped her arms around her midsection, forcing herself to take deep breaths. There was no need for her to get so upset. So he was sleeping in the guest room down the hall, at least he wasn't still in the hospital, still in that coma that had worked to destroy their marriage, and left her curling up in bed for the last three, four months, with only their baby boy growing in her womb as a reminder of the man she loved.

 _You can stand one more night._

After several minutes, she lay back down, curling around her belly-

She wasn't even aware of the sobs escaping her throat as the stress of the last few days finally took its toll. She barely heard the door open or the footsteps, but his voice caused her to choke on a sob. "You okay?"

Slowly, she pushed herself up, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm fine." She sniffled, knowing that was far from the truth. "I just... I'm fine."

He sighed, taking a seat beside her as she sat up. "Look, I'm sorry. I know we're married and we have a baby coming but... I don't know you. Or... at least... not like I used to... not at all, come to think of it... and I don't... I just..." He sighed, frustrated.

"I understand, Tim." She replied, reaching out and taking his hand. "I just... I have spent the last twenty weeks without you in my arms and... this bed... this house... it was so _empty_ without you... and I guess that I just... I want to wake up to you beside me again, like we used to do, before the accident."

He seemed to think for a moment, before, "Well, would it help if I... slept with you tonight?"

She nodded, laying back down under the covers. "Thank you."

He was silent as he slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed. They didn't touch, instead keeping the middle of the bed between them, even though Ziva longed to move over and snuggle against his chest like she used to. She knew that doing that this early in Tim's recovery would send him fleeing for the guest room, if not the sofa downstairs, and so kept still, resting her head on her arm.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you and the baby."

Her gaze moved up, catching his in the darkness. "Not your fault, Tim. It was that _ben Zonah_ who caused the accident. He took you away from me... and Amal... and all we can do is help you to regain your memory."

"I'm still sorry."

She smiled softly. There was the man she knew, the one she'd married. The sensitive, caring gentleman who took others' burdens on as well as his own. The man she'd fallen in love with, the one who'd given her their son. "It's okay."

"When are you due?"

A soft sigh escaped her throat as she calculated quickly in her head. "August... early August, Jeanne thinks. We could be welcoming a fall baby, if he decides to come later, though." She chuckled softly, reaching down and trailing her fingers over her belly. "It's not uncommon for first-time mothers to deliver late."

"This is our first?"

She looked up at him, surprised by the confusion in his gaze. " _Absolutely, ahuva_. I do not just have babies with anyone. We wanted to be... secure in our marriage before we tried and... we did not even have to try."

"So... the baby's a surprise?"

"Complete surprise." She thought a moment. "We were just having fun... and, one day... we hit the right combination, or the correct pattern or whatever it takes to make a baby and..." She shrugged. "We made a baby."

He sighed, watching her. "We made a baby." The statement was soft, a reaffirmation of a fact he'd been presented with, one he'd store away for future reference. They settled into silence again before he asked, "Do you... know how you're going to... to have the baby?"

She giggled softly, unaware of the affect the sound had on him, how it seemed to relax him, even if only briefly. "How I'm going to give birth, you mean?"

"Yeah."

Her teeth slid out to worry her lower lip before she whispered,

"I want a natural birth. No medication. At home. At the birth center if necessary, and only at the hospital if absolutely necessary. I don't like hospitals, so I want to spend as little time there as possible. There is no way I'm going to spend sixteen hours in a hospital bed, pushing this little one out of my body with nurses telling me when I can push and for how long."

"So you're a... natural birth advocate."

She shrugged. "Not so much an advocate as... a woman who saw what bad hospitals can do to babies." He opened his mouth to ask, but thought better of it; clearly she didn't want to elaborate. "Which means, when it comes time for our little Amal to enter the world, I am going to be here, at home, with Jeanne, and Sarah and... you." _Holding me in your arms, telling me that I'm doing a good job, helping me guide our son into the world-_

"You want me here when the baby's born?"

"Why wouldn't I, Tim? You're his _father_. You're my _husband_ , you are the _only_ man I want with me while I-." But her explanation fell on deaf ears, as she realized that he'd fallen asleep halfway through her rant. Eventually, she followed him.

When she woke up the next morning, she found herself alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 2, Sazzita for reviewing 3, 5, mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 7, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7.**

 _Week Twenty-Two_

He looked up at a soft knock on the door. Ziva was in the kitchen, fixing a cup of tea, and he'd found a book that had managed to capture his attention. Silently, he marked his place and then got up, making his way into the foyer. He slowly unlocked the door, pulling it open. "Yes?"

"Timmy." A moment passed, before he slowlyou pulled the door open further, revealing Sarah on the other side. Tears filled the younger McGee's eyes, and he soon stumbled back as she launched herself at him.

"Sarah?" He pulled away to study her; she'd grown up in the last few months. Her once long hair was now chin-length and lighter than before. She'd put on a little weight, gotten curvier as she'd gotten older, but her eyes, her smile were still the same.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be here after you got out of the hospital. I here for the last two months and then I had to go back to Venice... I had an assignment I had to finish that needed to be in by last week and I couldn't get away, otherwise I would have been here sooner." She choked on a sob. "Oh, Timmy, I'm so glad you're okay." He let her hug him for several minutes before slowly pulling away.

"You're a... a photographer right, for National Geographic?" She nodded, grinning.

"Right. You didn't forget much from that accident, did you, Timmy?" She reached out, taking his hand and lacing their fingers, turning when Ziva came in from the kitchen. "Hey Ziva." Instantly, the younger woman let go of her brother's hand, wrapping her arms around her sister-in-law. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here-"

"It's okay, Sarah. Your deadline was important."

"Oh, Ziva-" Tim watched as his sister wrapped her arm around his wife's waist, her other hand coming up to cradle the older woman's belly. "Look at you! You've got a tummy!"

"Yeah, I do." She sighed, glancing at her husband. "So, how long are you home for, _Sarit_?"

She led the younger woman into the living room, and after a moment, Tim followed, watching as the two settled on the sofa before taking a seat in the armchair across from them. He watched them both silently, unsure of what to say or how to react exactly to Sarah's return. He knew she'd graduated with a double major in English Literature and Photographic Journalism, and that she was one of the top photographers and writers at the magazine; she'd won several awards for her work, and lived in Silver Springs, not far from them. And yet... there was still that same girl who used to follow him around when they were kids.

"Three weeks, and then I'm going to Africa. I'm gonna do a piece of the faces of Ebola and how the country is combating the disease."

"You'll be back in time for the birth, right? She wants you here." Both women turned to him, and after a moment, he excused himself, slipping into the kitchen.

"How are you doing, Ziva? I... I mean, I know it's been hard with the baby, but... now that Timmy's out of his coma..."

"He has... post-traumatic amnesia, Sarah. He..." But Tim didn't hear the rest as he set to work fixing the tea. Had Sarah really changed that much in the three months he'd been in that coma? It didn't seem possible-

"My ankles have started to swell and sadly I can't fit into anything other than Tim's NCIS sweats- they are the only thing that's even remotely comfortable now. _Toda, ahuva_." He nodded, completely unaware that he'd fixed the tea and brought three mugs back into the living room. Clearly, this was something he was used to doing, so much so that it was pure muscle memory. He returned to the armchair, watching as Sarah once more reached over, laying her hand on Ziva's belly.

"Well maybe that's because you're still dressing as though you _aren't_ pregnant, when you so clearly _are_." Sarah replied, taking a sip of her tea. "Have you gone shopping for maternity clothes?" Ziva made a face.

"Abby tried to get me to go a couple months ago, but-"

"Abby's tastes are... stranger than yours." Both women turned to him. "But then, again, Abby is stranger than everyone, so." He shrugged, glancing down at his mug.

"He has a point, Ziva." The Israeli sighed.

"I know, I just... I wanted Tim... to go with me... I know that sounds silly-"

"Why don't you and Sarah go? Spend some time together? And we can... spend some time together when you get back. We'll be together anyway, we're married and we're having a kid together, after all." Slowly, she nodded, struggling to hide the hurt in her eyes.

"Okay. You... you don't mind not going, Tim?" He shook his head.

"I think I'll stay here and... get reacquainted with everything." He looked around. Though he'd been home a week, this house was still as foreign to him as Ziva was. He missed his apartment, the quiet of it, the familiarity of home it held. _But this is your home now... it_ _has been for four years, according to her. You're married, you have a baby on the way, you need to get used to it..._

But how?

"If you're sure, Tim." He nodded, meeting her gaze.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You go, hang out with Sarah for a bit. Have fun."


	9. Chapter 9

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

It was nice, getting out of the house for a while, spending time with Sarah. They wandered the local mall, picking out a few things for Ziva to wear as it got closer and closer to the birth before stopping for lunch at the food court. Sarah chatted about what it was like to photograph Poveglia Island, the Venitian island that had been used to house and bury victims of plague. She stopped, noticing that Ziva wasn't paying attention. "Hey, Ziva, you okay?"

A moment passed before her sister-in-law nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

"Baby wearing you out?"

"Just everything."

Sarah nodded, before getting up. "Come on, let's get you home."

The drive home from the mall was quiet, until they got to a stoplight, and suddenly, Ziva couldn't hold it in any longer. "He doesn't remember me, or the baby, or our marriage... he doesn't remember any of it." Without a word, Sarah shifted lanes; they pulled into a space at the park, and Sarah shut the engine off, quickly unhooking her seat belt and turning to her.

"Ziva, look at me. Talk to me."

"Tim... I love him, Sarah, but... when he woke up two weeks ago from that coma... he remembered everyone else but me and the baby... and I know that he wouldn't remember the baby because we found out the night of the accident, but he doesn't remember that we've been married for four years or that..."

Without a word, Sarah held her arms out. "Come here. Come here, Ziva." The expectant mother choked on a sob as she unhooked her seat belt and leaned over, wrapping her arms around her sister. "I'm so sorry, Ziva. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. Shh, hush. It'll be okay."

"Everyone... everyone says that, but... but I don't see how it can be. He doesn't remember me, Sarah. He doesn't remember our baby... when I handed him the baby book in the hospital, he stared at it as though it were a snake about to bite him. And when he came with me to my appointment the day he got out, he was distant... he wouldn't hold my hand when I held mine out... he's slept in the guest room for the last week and a half... he won't touch me or kiss me... he won't touch my belly unless I hold his hand against it, he won't talk to the baby... how is this supposed to get better?"

Slowly, Sarah pulled away, taking her sister's face in her hands. "Ziva, he's just woken up from a coma, and he's facing a lot information and a lot of situations that he doesn't remember. You have to be cautious... be careful. Treat Timmy as though he... as though he's a bird you're trying to catch or a deer caught in the headlights. It'll take time for him to get used to everything."

"We don't _have_ time, Sarah. Not much anyway." She glanced down at her belly, resting a hand over the swell. "Amal is going to be here soon... how is he going to feel if his _Abba_ won't hold him after he's born?" She choked on a sob. "Oh God, what happens if I go into labor? Or... or start to give birth... and Tim doesn't remember me... what if he doesn't remember the baby... what if he doesn't know what to do-"

" _Ziva! Calm down!_ All this stress and this worry over something that is months away isn't doing you or Amal any good. You have time before that happens-"

"I am five months pregnant, Sarah. I have four months left before Amal makes his appearance in the world... four months is not enough time to help my husband regain four years of marriage."

The younger woman sighed. "Look, I understand you're upset, but... but look at it this way. If you involve Timmy in everything that has to do with the pregnancy, maybe eventually those other memories will return. You know, the Lamaze classes and appointments and birth plan and... just... involve him in everything, and show him the videos, and talk to him, like you talk to Amal. Make a conscious effort to help him regain his memories, Ziva. Make him feel as though he's a part of this process, that he didn't just help create the baby, but that he matters. That he's loved. And... if I know my brother- and I _know_ my brother- he'll take your help. And eventually, when he feels comfortable enough, he'll reciprocate and become not as distant as he is now. Just be patient, Ziva. I know that's not your strong point, but think of it as a game. The more patient you are with my brother, the quicker you'll win the prize at the end. Okay?"

Slowly, the other woman nodded, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. She gently lifted the top of her blouse up, studying the swell. A soft chuckle escaped Sarah's throat. "I thought you had an innie."

"I did. Not anymore. This... little one has pretty much made it very clear that my body belongs to him now. I mean... look at me. My belly is protruding, my ankles are swelling, my breasts are..." She sighed, throwing up her hands. " _This_ is what your brother did to _me_!" Sarah sat back against the seat, laughing. "He put this... tiny human being into my body this is growing... and... changing and... ruining me and... and the worst part is... is... is that he _does not remember_!" She narrowed her gaze. _"Oh sheket b'vakasha! It is not funny, Sarah!"_

"Oh _yes_ it _is_ , Ziva! If you didn't love my brother, you wouldn't be having his baby, it's as _simple_ as that."


	10. Chapter 10

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

With the girls gone, the house was quiet. Tim wandered upstairs, finding himself drawn back to the nursery, though he had no idea why. Amal's baby book was tucked into the bookcase, and after a moment, he pulled it out, taking a seat in the rocking chair and flipping through it. Sonogram images, measurements, photographs of Ziva's growing progression week by week.

After a moment, he closed the book and returned it to the bookcase before slipping out of the room. Downstairs in the living room, he found photographs of a life he didn't remember, snapshots of a love that had blossomed without his knowing it- images of he and Ziva at the beach, visiting her family in Tel Aviv, visiting his grandmother up in Maine, being there for Sarah's college graduation... the images were endless, countless.

His gaze then moved to the DVD case by the mantel- countless movies, old classics and new releases, favorite children's movies and filmed concerts... slowly, he pulled one case out of the stack, reading the title written across it.

It took a moment before he realized it was Ziva's handwriting. _Tali's Engagement Party, Tel Aviv, Israel_

Dated six months earlier.

Without a word, he removed the DVD, turned on the TV and slipped it into the player. It took a couple minutes, before the images appeared- Ziva and a woman who could have been her twin, in the living room of a house.

 _"Girls! Look at the camera, come on!"_ A moment passed before they did as instructed. Something seemed to light in Ziva's eyes, and she reached out for someone.

 _"Come here, Tim, please!"_ He watched with wide green eyes as his younger self joined the sisters on the sofa; he pulled her into his lap, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing her firmly.

 _"Oh gross!"_

 _"Hey, we've been fairly tame compared to what you and Malachi have been doing for the last several hours!"_ He replied, glancing around Ziva at the younger woman.

 _"The more important question,"_ An older man came into frame, taking a seat in an armchair across from the sofa his children sat on. He held a drink in his hand and wore a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, his grey hair parted loosely over his head. _"when you are going to give your mother and I grandchildren. Tali and Malachi can wait, they just got engaged, but you two. Zivaleh, you and Timothy have been married for four years, you should... should have at least a couple babies by now."_

 _"We want to wait, Abba. Make sure this marriage is really what we want."_

 _"You have been married four years, Ziva. Your father and I would like grandchildren to spoil before we die."_

 _"Should we tell them?"_ He asked, turning to her. She thought a moment, screwing up her mouth.

 _"Tell them what? That we're trying to make a baby?"_

He paused the video, removing the DVD and returning it to the case before removing another one. He vaguely remembered that night- it was hazy, in the very back of his mind, but he couldn't grasp it. Instead, he returned to the DVD case, pulling out another video and putting it in. Sighing, he pressed play, watching as it took a moment for the camera to come into focus.

 _"What's so important that you couldn't wait to tell me, Ziva?"_ She took a deep breath, holding something out to him. _"A positive-"_ The screen froze momentarily, and Tim recognized the photograph in the baby's book. _"Positive? You... you're pregnant?"_ His wife nodded, squealing in excitement.

 _"We're having a baby!"_

 _"Oh, Ziva, sweetheart!"_ He scooped her into his arms, spinning her around before setting her back on her feet. _"We're having a baby?"_ She nodded. _"We're really-"_

 _"Yeah, we're having a baby."_ She pulled him close, her mouth finding his in a deep, soft kiss. Without a word, he reached down, laying his hand over her still flat abdomen-

He swallowed, shutting the video off and removing the DVD before returning it to the case. _Funny, how nearly five months can change in an instant._

"- if you ever want- hey, Timmy, what'cha up to?" He looked up as Ziva and Sarah returned from shopping, laden down with bags. He shrugged.

"Just... watching TV." Sarah nodded, setting a few of the bags down.

"Anything good on?"

"... not really." His sister rolled her eyes, before quickly digging into one of the bags.

"I found this at one of the little boutiques we went to, and I think it would be perfect for the baby's room." Tim watched in silence as Sarah gently unfolded a beautiful hand-painted plate with a child's blessing inscribed on it. "Can't you just imaging Amal waking up every morning to this on the wall of his bed? So that he knows where his daddy comes from?"

Gently, Tim took the plate; his gaze quickly scanned the prayer, a small smile on his face. "It's... just like the ones Penny gave Mom and Dad when they had us."

Sarah shrugged. "Tradition, right?" He nodded. "Oh, I've got to get going." She went to her brother, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But, I will be here for the next couple of weeks, so if you ever want to get together, just let me know." She then pressed a kiss to Ziva's cheek before leaning down. "You play nice with Mommy, Amal," She glanced at Tim. "But you have my permission to give Daddy a really hard time, especially since he doesn't remember you."

Once she was gone, Ziva turned back to her husband. "So just watching TV?" He gently set the plate gently on the coffee table before helping her take the bags upstairs.

"I... was watching DVDs."

She turned to him as they reached the bedroom and she began removing the clothes. "You, resorting to movies? You'd rather watch TV than movies."

"I know. There were... a couple I only watched a few minutes of... up... an engagement party in Tel Aviv and..." Ziva stopped, turning to him.

"You watched the video of Tali and Malachi's engagement party?"

"Some of it. Was I not supposed to?"

"No, that... that's wonderful. Do... do you remember it?" He thought a moment, drawing a blank.

"Not really."

"Oh. Well... in time you will. And the other DVD?"

"Um... revealing a pregnancy, I think-"

She moved closer to him, interest peaked. "You watched the video of when I told you I was pregnant?" He nodded. "Well? Did you remember anything? Did you remember it at all?"

"No. Sorry."

She took a deep breath, biting her lip. "That's okay. Soon you will." She took a deep breath, Sarah's words ringing in her head.

 _The more patience you have with my brother, the quicker you'll win the prize._

The problem with that whole plan of Sarah's was simple: Ziva wasn't known for her patience.


	11. Chapter 11

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Three_

She took a deep breath, hands moving down to cradle her belly.

"So do you want me to take the photo or not?"

Her gaze moved up; Tim was leaning against the door frame, the camera in his hands. Ziva had taken Sarah's advice, involving him in as much as she could that regarded the baby, and they found themselves spending evenings lying together in bed discussing what they'd read- for Ziva had started reading _What to Expect_ not long after Tim ended up in the coma; reading a chapter a day to him when she went to visit, explaining the changes that were taking place within her as the baby grew, not that she expected him to remember what she read, but it brought a comfort, knowing that in some small way, she was involving her husband in the process of their baby forming.

Slowly, she lifted her head, reaching out for him. He didn't move from the door, but his gaze did dart towards her hand. Although they slept in the same bed- for Ziva had convinced him that she wanted his presence near her while she slept- he didn't touch her, didn't reach out or hold her. And she took it, understanding why he was acting so distant. She understood, she really did, but still, it hurt. But all she could do was give it time, and hope he began to regain the memories.

Both Gibbs and Vance had given them the next two weeks off with pay, seeing that Ziva needed her husband home as much as Tim needed to be home right now. And for that, Ziva was eternally grateful to both men.

"Yeah, if you would."

He nodded and stepped back; she followed, silent. By the time they reached the living room- the lighting was better- Ziva was ready to pin him down and force him to hold her, but she kept her distance.

 _Deer in the headlights, deer in the headlights. Remember? You approach him cautiously unless you want to spook him._

"So... where do you want this done?" She looked around, before moving to stand beside the curtained window.

"Here, okay?"

"Sure." She stood close to the wall in nothing but a bra and a pair of stretch yoga pants, hands resting on her hips; the swell was noticeable now, as were her growing breasts. The very petite Israeli had gone from a thirty-two A to a thirty-two D in five short months, and to be honest, she was worried about after the baby was born. From what she'd read, a woman's breasts continued to grow even after birth, thanks to the milk coming in. "You ready for me?" He nodded, and she sighed, taking a deep breath, her hands moving to cradle her belly between them. "Did it turn out okay?"

He joined her, pulling the photos up on the screen, and she smiled softly, meeting his gaze. "They turned out fine." She met his gaze, noticing the small smile on his face as he studied the photographs.

Without a word, and before she could stop herself, Ziva rose quickly on her toes, pressing a kiss to her husband's cheek. " _Toda_ , Tim. Thank you so much for doing this, for me and Amal."

He started, green eyes widening in surprise briefly before he met her gaze. "Ah... s... sure. No... no problem."

Until then, they'd avoided contact; Ziva was terrified of pushing him too far, and Tim was unsure of how to approach the woman he was supposed to love, the woman who was carrying a baby he didn't remember conceiving with her. Ziva, thankfully noticing how nervous her actions made him, quickly moved away. "So... should we print them and... add them to the book?" He nodded, following her into the kitchen and taking a seat beside her at the table, where the baby's book lay, open and waiting to be worked on. A number of scrapbook items lay scattered about the table- little cutout letters and numbers, stickers and markers and various other things used for scrap-booking.

He studied the page before them; in cutout letters across the top were the words,

 _Twenty-three Weeks!_

 _Ima is halfway through her pregnancy with me!_

 _But I still have a lot of growing to go..._

He looked up as Ziva joined him, the printed photographs in her hands that she laid down on the page. "What do you think?" She pointed to the first one. "This one?" He studied the photographs before flipping back a few pages.

"The second one." He replied, dropping the other pages and turning back to the page at hand. She thought a moment, before nodding.

"Okay." It was silent, Ziva watched as Tim picked up and gently laid the photo beneath the words. He met her gaze.

"What next?" She sighed, thinking. She was so used to doing this without Tim that sadly she was drawing a blank. He waited, propping his elbow on the table and resting his head on his hand. "Can't think of anything?" She shook her head.

"Well, what do you want to add?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Amal is your son as much as he is mine."

"But what do you put in a baby book when you don't remember making the baby?" He whispered, lowering his hand to the table. His wife sighed.

"Well, is there anything exciting about the pregnancy that you want to tell him about? Maybe... what it was like being at my appointment or... or seeing the nursery or-"

"No. I mean... it's fascinating, but... babies are made every day. And this could just be the... logic side of my brain but... I just... don't find your pregnancy all that interesting... and that could be because I wasn't there the first three months because of the coma... and for that I'm sorry, and I don't mean to be-"

"Blunt?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Look, I don't want to hurt you, but... what makes your pregnancy so special?"

Ziva opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, realizing that, on some level, what he was saying was right.


	12. Chapter 12

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 8, 9 and 10.**

 _"... what makes your pregnancy so special?"_

The water was warm as it ran down her back, dipping into the crevices of her spine and rolling over her belly before dripping to the floor.

 _He has a point. Your pregnancy is just like any other- except for the fact that your son's father spent the first three- almost four- months of his son's growth in a coma. But other than that, he has a point._

She took a deep breath, rinsing the soap out of her hair as she thought back on the last few hours. Dinner had been quiet, with neither saying a word. Once the dishes had been cleared away, Tim had slipped off to the living room; Ziva had found him curled up on the sofa with a book open in front of him. As much as she'd longed to sit beside him, she was exhausted, and desperately wanted a shower, and so had slipped upstairs.

That had been an hour ago, and the water was starting to get cold. She quickly finished rinsing her hair before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. When she came into the bedroom, she was surprised to find him sitting on his side of the bed, in his pajamas. "Not going to sleep in the guest room tonight?"

He met her gaze. "Do you _want_ me to?"

She sighed, going to the dresser and removing a pair of underwear before grabbing her pajamas and setting them on the bed. Her mind raced, before she finally glanced at him. "No. I want you here, in bed with me, even if we aren't touching."

Then, without a word, she pulled her underwear on and then removed her towel, tossing it towards the hamper in the corner. She glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. "Don't tell me I married a man with a pregnancy fetish."

He blanched. "God, no. When Mom was pregnant with Sarah, I was terrified of her. Everything about it scared me; granted, I was... three, so I didn't fully understand everything that was going on, but..." He shook his head. "No, when I was sixteen, I swore I'd die a bachelor."

Ziva's face fell, and she reached for her pajamas. "Well, I'm sorry I ruined your plans."

He bit his lip, realizing what he'd said. "I was sixteen, when I said that. So _clearly_ , I changed my opinion as I got older. I married you, didn't I?"

She met his gaze. "That is supposed to make me feel better?"

Tim shrugged. "Call it what you will, but I had to have loved you if I went so far as to marry you and-"

"Make a baby." Once she was dressed, she slipped beneath the covers, moving to button her shirt, but soon stopped, her fingers moving to trace the _linea nigra_ that ran the length of her belly. She sighed. "I'm sorry, I just... I can't imagine what this situation is like for you... waking up nearly two months ago to find that nothing you knew was the same and that we're married and having a baby... but this difficult for me too. The man I married, the man I love... doesn't remember me. He doesn't even know the baby I'm carrying and... I guess... I'm just... just afraid that once Amal is born... that you'll decide that since you can't remember either of us, then you won't want to be with us-"

"That's not going to happen." Slowly, she looked up, meeting his gaze. "I may not remember you, but I know you're important to me, both of you, and... and I won't just abandon you. I was raised to stick to my commitments. And that includes you and the baby."

She nodded, shifting onto her side to face him as he lay opposite her. She hadn't bothered buttoning her top, preferring the looseness, especially given how tender her breasts were at the moment. Her hands moved down to caress her belly, tracing the stretching skin. "Soon I will not be able to see my feet."

He snorted softly. "It is not funny, Timothy." She replied, though her voice as filled with mirth. "This is your son inside me, taking over my body... moving and growing and-" She stopped.

"What is it? What's wrong?" But a quick shake of her head silenced him, and after a moment, she shifted onto her back and pushed the material of her top aside to study her belly. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she turned to him.

"He is hiccuping." Tim raised an eyebrow, pushing himself onto his elbow, watching curiously.

"He is?" Ziva nodded. "I thought hiccups couldn't be felt until later in the pregnancy."

"They are hiccups. Do you want to feel?"

Slowly, Tim reached out to lay his hand over her belly, but he stopped, retracting his hand quickly. "No, that's okay."

Ziva sighed, nodding. _You are going to have to touch me some time, Timothy. We are both grown adults; it doesn't matter if I'm pregnant, I still have desires that need to be met. And so do you._ "They are gone now. Now he is just moving around."

Silence filled the room, before he spoke up again. "I don't mean to make this hard on you, I really don't. I just... wish I could remember..." She shifted onto her side, tucking her arm under her head.

"I know, Tim. I just... I know a lot of my irrational thinking is the situation, and a lot of it is due to my hormones, and... you are really sweet to put up with me for the last three weeks. Any other man would have walked out on us."

He met her gaze. "Well my parents raised a gentleman. Your parents raised a killer."

She started, momentarily surprised, before bursting out laughing. Without realizing what he'd said, he'd shown Ziva that that old part of him was still in there. Now, all she had to do was get him to come out, and remember.


	13. Chapter 13

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: The restaurant in this chapter is based off the restaurant that Ev took Zani too on their first date. I just noticed that.- Licia**

"We don't have to do this, Tim. We can stay home."

"No, I want to take you out. Besides, once the baby comes we won't be able to go out like this, so let's enjoy it."

She sighed, accepting the shawl he held out; he'd told her that morning that he had plans for them, but Ziva wasn't expecting this. The black dress she wore seemed to stop briefly at her belly and then flow down, and she'd pulled her hair back into a loose braid before slipping into a pair of black ballet flats. She'd done her makeup as well, and while they weren't going anywhere fancy- simply to this small restaurant tucked away from the main streets of downtown Georgetown, it was still a nice restaurant; and Tim had to admit that she looked lovely. He fixed the collar of his light jacket and grabbed his keys. "Ready?"

"Yes. Let's get this over with."

"Hey, look on the bright side, when we're taking care of a colicky baby in four months, you'll be grateful we had this night."

The restaurant was a small hole-in-the-wall that only locals knew about; with its soft lighting and gentle violin music, it was the perfect place for Tim to have brought Ziva. They sat across from each other at a table in the back corner, near the fireplace, the scent of wine and pasta filling the air. "Tim, this is beautiful... how did you know about this place?"

"I brought Sarah here for her eighteenth birthday. We... spent the day in D.C. and then came here for dinner before going back up to Manhattan."

Ziva was startled; Tim never talked about their time in New York, for the family had spent a year or two living on the Naval base in New York State- long before they'd ever met, but still. That he would bring her here, to this place that was special to him and Sarah-

"Thank you, _ahuva_ , for bringing me here."

He smiled softly at her. "No problem-"

"Can I offer either of you in a glass of wine?" The pair looked up as the waiter held out a bottle of merlot. Ziva covered her belly, opening her mouth, but Tim beat her to it.

"My... my wife can't, she's pregnant. And I'm not... no thank you. Just... just a cup of coffee for me. And..." He glanced at Ziva, who struggled to think of something to say.

"Do... do you... perhaps have jasmine tea?" The waiter nodded, slipping off to retrieve their drinks with a soft smile. She turned to him. "Thank you, Tim. For some reason, I was drawing a blank." He chuckled softly, opening his mouth to respond when the waiter returned.

"I'll give you a few minutes to decide." The pair sat in silence for several minutes before Ziva asked,

"Do you remember our first date?" He looked up at her. "Never mind. Stupid question, of course you don't." She sighed. "We... we went to a movie, and then got coffee and then..."

"Got ice cream at the local parlor down the street from the cafe." She looked up, dark eyes widening.

"Yes. You... you remember that, Tim?"

He thought a moment, before nodding slowly. "Parts of it. They're... hazy... quick... quick film cuts, that won't stay long enough for me to grab."

She closed the menu. "Hold onto them."

"I can't."

"You don't want to."

"I _do_."

She sighed, setting her menu down. "I'm sorry, Tim. I just... I have been hoping to hear that for weeks-"

"Are we ready?" Once they'd ordered and the waiter had left to fill their order, Tim sat back against the chair.

"We're a real mess, aren't we? I have no memory of you and the baby growing inside you thanks to an accident I don't remember and a coma, and you're left to... pick up the pieces."

"Oh, Tim..." She reached out, but he didn't move to take her hand. "We'll make new memories, and... and eventually, you'll get the others back. We just... we both need to have patience." She glanced down at her belly. "Amal does."

"He's our baby, and he's growing inside you, that's entirely different to what we're dealing with-" The conversation died once their meal arrived, and they ate in silence for several minutes before Ziva spoke up.

"This is affecting Amal, too, Tim. It may not seem like it, but... but those three months... I would in and sit by your bedside and... and hold your hand against my tummy and... and tell you about him, and tell him about you and... and how much you love him and... and that... that this accident wasn't your fault or his, that you went out because I asked you to, and... and that you were going to get something that I wanted desperately for the dinner party that night..." She bit her lip, meeting his gaze. "He knew, or, at least, I think he knew, that something wasn't right with you, because he never heard your voice, never felt your hands on my belly unless I was at the hospital with you... but you can make up for it now. You can be there for him now, and talk to him now and... and tell him that you love and that you will always be there for him-" She stopped. "I'm sorry, I... got overly emotional... God damn hormones."

He chuckled, studying her silently for a moment. She glanced at him, suddenly embarrassed to be the object of her scrutiny. "I think your hormones make you beautiful."


	14. Chapter 14

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Four_

She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, in nothing but her bra and underwear, studying herself.

 _You definitely look five and a half months pregnant now. Before you know it, you won't be able to walk, and will have to be rolled to the hospital._

A moment passed as Ziva shifted, rolling her shoulders. She hissed, reaching up to adjust the straps, of her bra, though they were already as loose as they could possibly get and on the last hooks. She groaned softly. "Great, just what I need." She tugged gently at the straps of her bra, staring at the two exceedingly soft mounds that had replaced her breasts. "You cannot possibly get any bigger. I am already wearing a thirty-two _D_ cup, you do not need to keep growing! How big are you going to get? Triple E's?" She turned her gaze to the ceiling. "Please, not that. I can handle a D-"

"You okay?" She turned, to find Tim leaning into the bedroom, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Just talking to your... breasts?"

She blushed. "Did you need something?"

He held up the camera. "Picture, right?"

"Right." She nodded, releasing a breath before following him downstairs after pulling on his sweats. Once the photos were taken, she made a beeline for the kitchen. Tim followed, chuckling softly.

"Hungry?" Ziva turned back, meeting his gaze before she grabbed a bowl and filled it with almonds. Then, she made her way towards him, holding the dish out to him. He smiled softly, taking one before following her into the living room. She took a seat on the sofa, groaning softly.

"I'm _always_ eating. It's like... as soon as I woke up this morning, all I want to do is eat." She sighed. "Throw in the fact that my breasts do not appear to be done growing and I've got stretch marks that extend from my belly to my feet..." She turned to him. "I look horrible."

He smirked, taking a seat beside her. "You do not look horrible."

"I look fat."

"You don't look fat, you look pregnant."

She shifted to face him, only to wince at the cramp in her leg. With minor difficulty, she pulled her feet up onto the sofa beside him. He glanced at her feet, before returning his gaze to her face, watching as she curled against the back of the sofa, digging into her dish of almonds. After a moment, he reached down, picking up her left foot. Her head snapped up, dark eyes widening in shock as he began to gently massage the cramps out of her muscles. "You... you don't have to do that, Tim-"

He shrugged. "I'm partially responsible for the state you're in, the least I can do is help relieve some of your stress."

Tears came to her eyes. "Thank you, Tim." He nodded.

Though things had been strained for them the last few weeks, he'd slowly begun to remember little things from their life together- the first night they slept together, when he asked her out, the day they got engaged. But everything else- their wedding, the news of the pregnancy, the accident, the last four years- was still a blur. But he was starting to remember, slowly but surely. And, slowly, he was starting to touch her again.

Though they hadn't kissed since that kiss on the cheek she'd given him, and sex... sex wasn't even on the table.

No matter how much she longed to lock him in their room and take him against his protests. Ziva might have been used to getting what she wanted, but this... this wasn't her decision to make. And no matter how much it hurt, she respected that, and would be willing when he did come to her.

She sighed. "I really don't look fat?"

He met her gaze. "No. Why would you ask that?"

She shrugged. "I just... I feel fat. And... bloated and... exhausted and... hungry and..."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "And pregnant?"

"Yes. And pregnant." She giggled softly, and he relaxed, briefly stopping his work on her feet. "Tim? Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just... I like hearing that."

"Hearing what?"

"Your laugh." A blush crept across her cheeks, and she grabbed another almond, biting down on it to hide her embarrassment.

"You like my laugh?" He nodded. "That's very sweet."

Silence soon filled the room, and eventually, Tim finished working on her feet. He gave her a soft smile as he got up, heading into the kitchen and pouring a cup of coffee. Ziva sighed, setting her now empty bowl on the coffee table. She could feel him moving, stretching and shifting inside her; a small smile tugged at her lips, as she subconsciously began to rub her belly, resting her head against the back of the sofa.

"You okay?" She looked up at him, nodding.

"Just tired." He returned to his place beside her, a cup of coffee in his hands. Without a word, he returned to the book he was reading-

An hour later, Ziva shifted closer, until she was resting her head on his shoulder. Tim's gaze snapped up and he turned, to find her sound asleep against his side. He tried his hardest to return to his book, but couldn't focus thanks to her snoring. No matter how many months he spent in a coma, a drunken, emphysemic sailor _still_ sounded like a drunken emphysemic sailor. Eventually, he set the book aside, turning his attention to his wife.

Even with the weight she was putting on from her pregnancy, she was still beautiful. His gaze drifted down to her belly, and after a moment, he reached out, brushing his fingers against the sensitive skin, before moving to pull away-

She shifted closer, reaching up and covering his hand with hers, pinning him against her stomach. Clearly, she was used to holding his hand while they slept, because she didn't let go; instead, she tightened her hold. Tim swallowed, trying to pull away when he stopped. Something moved beneath his hand, and he started, a soft gasp of surprise escaping his throat, even as Ziva's dark eyes slowly opened.

"Tim?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

He tried pulling away, but Ziva tightened her grip, and after a moment, their gazes locked. "What are you-"

"It... it's moving... the... the baby, he... he's _moving_..."

A small smile appeared on Ziva's face, and she nudged her nose against his shoulder. "I know. I feel him move every day." She gently squeezed his hand, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. "I want you, Tim. I want you to hold me and... kiss me and... make love to me and... remember me... and I know that it's going to take time, but... I can't help wanting it."

He studied her for a moment, biting his lip. "Do... do you want me to make love to you?"

"Yes, but... but I don't want to force you to. I... I want you to come to me when... when you're ready." She pressed another soft kiss to his cheek and then got up, heading into the kitchen.

Tim sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. He struggled to get his thoughts in order, before getting up. Without a word, he grabbed his keys and slipped out of the house, shutting the door softly behind him. It didn't take him long, before he finally parked the car and got up. After quickly locking the car, he headed across the lawn and onto the small porch.

Yep, just as he thought.

Quietly, he slipped into the house, heading for the basement.

Gibbs looked up as he made his way downstairs, a bourbon-filled mason jar in his hand. "What can I do for you, McGee?" The younger man sighed, taking a seat on the bottom step. "If you're going to ask to come into work this week, I'll ask Vance to extend your leave until the baby's _born_ -" But he instantly softened, seeing the defeated look on his agent's face. "What happened, McGee?" He asked, emptying another jar of nails and pouring a bit of his bourbon into the second jar. He made his way to the agent, holding the glass out to the younger man before taking a seat beside him.

"I felt him move today... her... my... _our_ son. Gibbs," He shifted to face the older man. "I rubbed her feet and... and she kissed me on the cheek... and... and for the... the briefest of moments I... I wanted to kiss her back." He stopped, swallowing thickly. "But... but I don't remember her! Barely! I... I've regained a few memories over the last couple months, but they're just... just flashes. Quick film cuts that are there one minute and gone the next."

"Hold onto them."

"That's the same thing she said last week-"

"Hold onto them, Tim."

"I can't."

"Because you don't want to."

"I do." Tim took a sip of the bourbon. "Besides, how would you know?"

Gibbs briefly considered smacking his agent upside the head, but given the fact that his amnesia was due in part to the head injury he'd sustained, he opted instead for reaching up and gently squeezing the back of his neck. "Because I've been there." Tim met his gaze.

"Mexico?" His boss nodded. "But... you... you lost... years of your life... that's entirely different to this. I... I have no memory of my wife or our baby... how do I deal with that? And what... what if I never get those memories back? Dr. Beniot said that... that I may never get those memories back, that... that it depends on the extent of the damage-"

"Tim, do you love Ziva?"

The younger man thought a moment. Did he love her? He certainly felt something for her- strong affection, happiness... but love? At one point though, he must have loved her, because he'd married her-

"I don't know. I... I don't remember."

"Tim, do you feel affection for Ziva? Happiness when you're around her? Do you feel the need to protect her?" He nodded. "You still love her, and no matter what happened thanks to that accident, that feeling doesn't go away. It doesn't matter how much time you lose, you'll still love her. She's your wife. And as far as that baby is concerned, you'll love him from the moment he's laid in your arms. But you need to let yourself love her, let her help open up those memories."

"I'm _trying_ , Gibbs."

"I know you are, Tim. And I know this distance between you two is because of the amnesia- but Dr. Beniot has said you're getting better. It's gonna take time. And I know you want to rush it; I can see it in your eyes, but you need to give it time."

"How _much time_ , Gibbs? That baby is going to be here in four and a half months, and I... I don't know him. I don't remember conceiving him, I don't... I don't _remember_ him. I spent the first three months of his growth in a coma... how is he going to react when he's born, and she... she lays him in my arms... what if I don't love him? What if I don't _remember_ loving him?" Tim stood, pacing back and forth across the basement. "What if... what if she goes into labor and... and starts giving birth and... and then he's born and... and he doesn't want me near him? Or to hold him or talk to him?"

"Tim, he's your son. He loves you while he's in her womb and he'll love you after he's out. That won't change. He recognizes your voice and responds by moving, doesn't he?" Tim shrugged. "He's going to love you, no matter _what_ happens, because he's your _son,_ Tim." The older man got up, taking the jar from the younger man and setting it on the workbench. Then, he made his way to the younger agent, taking his shoulders. "Listen to me, Tim." When the younger man didn't look at him, he reached up, taking his face in his hands. "Tim, _look_ at me." Slowly, green eyes met blue. "Give it time. And let Ziva help you to remember."

"Why?" Tears choked his voice; clearly, he'd been holding this in for weeks-

"Because she loves you, and you love her."


	16. Chapter 16

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Hey." He looked up as he shut the door softly behind him. Ziva stood on the stairs, in her pajamas. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and she looked exhausted. "Where were you?"

"Went to talk with Gibbs."

She nodded, resting her hands on her back. "Oh. Did he have any advice?"

Tim shrugged. "Doesn't Gibbs always have advice?"

"Right." She glanced back up the stairs. "I... tried to sleep after taking a shower but... but I couldn't get comfortable. Because Amal wouldn't stop moving."

"He's moving again?"

Ziva met his gaze, resting a hand on her belly. "He is always moving." She sighed. "We have created a little track star. Do you want to feel him?"

He bit his lip, thinking. After his minor freak out, Gibbs had sat him down and over coffee, pretty much laid down the rules of men and pregnancy- rules still buzzing in his head.

 _Rule No. One- That baby is your responsibility. It's up to you to look after him, before and after he comes out._

 _Rule No. Two- His mother is just as much your responsibility as that baby is. She needs you as much as you need her._

 _Rule No. Three- When a pregnant woman wants something, denying it will just make her more determined. And that trait carries over into that baby._

 _Rule No. Four- In all matters food, massage, and sex-wise, it's best to give in than deny._

 _Rule No. Five- When she wants sex, you give her sex. When she wants Chinese, it doesn't matter how far you have to drive- even if it's to China- you drive to China. No questions asked._

 _Rule No. Six- Record as much as you can during her pregnancy; video recorded memories are just as important as the photographic ones._

 _Rule No. Seven- Fat and pregnant are two entirely different things. Do NOT confuse them!_

 _Rule No. Eight- Tell her often that you love her and the baby. Especially during labor and childbirth. Because even though she won't believe you when she's covered in sweat and has a small human being peeking out from between her legs, she'll still take it as a compliment, and love you for it._

Tim took a deep breath, before moving towards her. He reached out, hesitant at first, before resting his hand over her belly. He waited for a moment, glancing at Ziva, who watched him silently. A moment passed, before he finally felt something sharp against his hand. "He's moving..." A small smile tugged at his lips, and he met her gaze. Slowly, he leaned forward, stopping inches from her mouth. He studied her, his voice soft. "I want to, but-"

"I want you too." She replied, giving him a small smile. " _Please_." Their lips brushed; she slid a hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his shirt. The kiss was deep, searching. "Make love to me, Tim." She kissed him softly once before pulling and taking his hand, tugging him upstairs. She wasn't going to allow him not to touch her- not tonight. She needed this, _he_ needed this...

They needed to find what had connected them in the first place, that raging, passionate fire that had consumed them both, that had led to their marriage and the baby growing inside her. She locked the bedroom door once it shut behind them before pulling him close. He wasn't getting away, he wasn't sleeping on the other side of the bed and not touching her tonight; he was going to make love to her if she had to kill him to do it. For once, Tim didn't let his familiar distance get in the way.

He pulled her close, their lips locking in a deep kiss- a kiss that had been waiting patiently in the wings. Their clothing fell to the floor; the sheets of the bed became a tangled mess. She lay on her left side, avoiding lying on her back. His arms slid around her, pulling her close-

Hours later, he awoke to find her hands threaded through his; they rested on her belly. Tim swallowed thickly, sighing in frustration.

 _How could you do that? You took advantage of her- or did she take advantage of you? Either way, sex was the last thing you needed!_

He pushed himself up to study her. She was content, and though she was snoring, she had relaxed completely. Her hair was a knotted mass of dark curls, and there were bites on her skin- bites that mirrored the ones on his skin. Clearly, Ziva gave as good as she got. She gently squeezed the hand that rested over her belly, and Tim sighed. A moment passed, before he was finally able to extract himself from her and got up, pulling on a pair of boxers and pajama bottoms. He turned back to her, and before he could stop himself, leaned down, brushing a kiss to her temple.

After stopping by the nursery, he made his way downstairs, where he fixed a cup of coffee and took a seat on the sofa, flipping through the baby book. Ziva's growing belly was obvious now in the photographs, whereas in the earlier ones, she didn't even have a belly. But what took his breath away were the sonograms; each checkup revealing a little more of their baby- his arm, his head, his face.

He flipped to the next page- Ziva already had writing in it-

 _It's Twenty-five Weeks, Now!_

 _I'm the size of an ear of corn, and Ima is the size of a bowling ball!_

He chuckled softly. Though Ziva often said that she wasn't creative, there was no doubt, she clearly put a lot of thought into the book... into what would go into it, and the important milestones she reached as she progressed in her pregnancy. Milestones that clearly included him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Five_

"... and there is your baby's heartbeat."

Ziva turned to him, a smile on her face. He returned it, slowly. In the week since their impromptu sex session, the pair had spent more time talking. They would be pretty much spending the entire rest of Ziva's pregnancy home from work; thanks to a surprise visit from Vance, who'd informed them that each of the agents and other workers at NCIS had chipped in, each giving up four days of their paid leave to both Tim and Ziva. The accident had affected all at NCIS, for while maybe not knowing Tim and Ziva personally, many knew how close the MCRT was, and how the coma had affected the couple. It was enough leave from everyone- including Vance- for Tim and Ziva to stay home and take care of Amal well into the first four weeks of the boy's life once he was born.

"You two doing okay?" Dr. Beniot asked as she cleaned Ziva up and then proceeded to gently feel her stomach. The baby kicked hard in response when she pushed down, and she chuckled. "Someone's active."

"He hardly ever _stops_ being active. I feel as though I am hosting a marathon half the time." Jeanne chuckled softly, glancing at Tim, who leaned back against the wall directly across from her.

"How are you doing, Tim? Getting ready to be a daddy? Not much longer."

He sighed. "It's... getting there."

"And how are your memories coming? Still having problems recalling?"

"Some."

Jeanne nodded. "Well, if you need to talk to Dr. Cranston."

"I know, call." She grinned, before helping Ziva sit up.

"So, have you thought about Lamaze classes yet?" The couple shared a glance.

"Do I really need to be looking into them this soon? Jeanne, I am only twenty-"

"I know. But they fill up fast. So, check them out, sign up; you won't have to attend until you get closer to birth unless you want to."

Once they climbed into the car after her appointment, Ziva sighed, settling back against the seat. The drive was fairly silent-

 _"Oh!"_ Tim slammed on the brakes, his heart jumping into his throat.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

She turned to him, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Tim, I... I just... wasn't expecting him to kick that hard." She sat up, resting a hand to her side. "God, that was my rib cage." The rest of the drive home was in the same fashion, and once they parked, Ziva unbuckled her seat belt and lifted up her top. "I don't know why, but whenever we finish our checkups with Jeanne, Amal decides that the ride home is the perfect time to start stretching. He couldn't do that at any other-" She hissed, her eyes shutting briefly. "Oh, that was my kidney..." She gave him a quick smile.

He chuckled. "Come on, let's go inside." They made it inside just as it began to rain. Once inside, Ziva headed upstairs, where she quickly changed Tim's NCIS sweats, leaving her bra on. She came back downstairs a few minutes later and made a beeline for the sofa. With her feet propped up on a pillow on the coffee table, she turned her attention to her belly, giving Tim a smile when he joined her, holding out a cup of hot tea.

"Look at this... watch. Just watch." She gently pushed on her belly. A few seconds passed, before her skin seemed to move upward. Tim leaned forward, watching intently. "I think that's his knee." Ziva pressed gently on her stomach again, feeling the baby kick in response. She sighed, glancing over at her husband, who flashed her a tiny smile. "Oh, Tim, look... if you look close... you can see him moving..." He moved closer, green gaze latching onto her belly.

Minutes passed, before he noticed the rolling movements beneath her skin. A soft chuckle escaped his throat as he groaned. "Sore?"

"I _swear_ , he's training for a marathon..." She swallowed, hissing softly. Jeanne had explained at the appointment that the skin on Ziva's belly was sensitive and tender, which was why it often hurt when the baby kicked too much. She glanced at him, before reaching over and grabbing his hand, not giving him a chance to pull away. She rested it on her stomach, holding his hand over her stomach, watching his face as he felt the baby stretch and kick. He pulled away however when Ziva let go with a hiss.

"Okay, that was hard."

"Tell me about it." She sighed, reaching up and rubbing her belly. "Are you active today, little one? Hmm, _ahuva_? Just suddenly decided to put on a show for us? Wanted _Abba_ to feel you moving? Is that why you're so active today?" Tim watched in silence as she rubbed her hands over her belly. "Well, you proved your point, we both felt that last kick." She winced, releasing a slow breath. "Try not to kick my bladder, _ahuva_ , please. I don't want to spend the rest of the day in the bathroom." She groaned softly as she lowered her feet to the floor and stood. "I knew that was too much to ask for." Tim chuckled softly. "I'll be right back." She whispered, leaning down and kissing him quickly on the lips.

Once she was gone, Tim got up, going back to the DVD case. He quickly scanned the cases before pulling one out he hadn't see before. A moment passed before he slipped the DVD into the player and started it. At first, nothing appeared on screen, but after a moment, the camera turned, and he found himself looking into Ziva's beautiful dark eyes.

 _"Okay, so this is... week sixteen, and I am at Bethesda. Amal and I are going to go visit Abba, aren't we?"_ She took a deep breath, one hand moving down to caress her belly. It was evident that she was trying hard not to cry. _"Abba hasn't been able to watch you grow like I have. He has missed the last nearly two months..."_

She stopped speaking when she pushed the door to his hospital room open. There, on camera, was his body, hooked up to machines and wires. A moment passed as Ziva pulled the table close and set the camera onto it with her purse. _"Hi, sweetheart. We're back."_ She leaned over, brushing a kiss to his forehead before taking a seat beside the bed. _"I had another appointment; Dr. Beniot said that... that our baby is strong and healthy... do you want to feel?"_ She reached over, taking his hand and bringing it to rest against her belly. _"I have a belly; it's small, but it's there. Do you feel it, Tim? Hmm? Do you feel our baby growing inside me?"_ She leaned over the bed, reaching up with her free hand to stroke his forehead. _"Please, ahuva, wake up. I need you. Amal needs you... how is this fair? That that... ben Zonah gets to go home to his wife on Valentine's Day, while the man I love... the beautiful man I married... my husband, the father of my child... is lying comatose in a hospital bed... how is that fair?"_ She sniffled, bringing his hand to her lips. _"Please, Timothy, wake up. I can't raise our baby alone... I need you... Amal needs you... so... so you listen to me, Timothy McGee, and you listen good."_ She stood, leaning over him.

 _"I have your baby growing inside me, and he is strong. He's a fighter, just like his Abba. You have been shot at, held hostage, blown up, beaten... and survived it all... so you can't... you cannot... allow some... some Chevrolet-driving son of a bitch that doesn't know the meaning of a red light to take you away. You hear me? You are strong, and you passed those traits onto our baby boy. So you get better, and you heal, and you fucking come back to me Timothy, because I am not going to bury my husband before I give birth to my son. I won't. And I don't care if you come out of this with major brain damage or partial brain damage or complete memory loss... because you will be coming back to me. And that's what's important."_

"I threatened you." He turned from the video, to see Ziva come back into the living room, hands resting on her back. "You always seem to listen to me when I threaten you."

Tim took a deep breath, glancing back at the video. He bit his lip, never taking his eyes off the screen as he asked,

"Tell me about it. Tell me about the accident. All of it. Please."


	18. Chapter 18

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to Sazzita for reviewing 13, Rosiesmomma4 for reviewing 10, DS2010 for reviewing 15, 16 and 17, Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 and 17.**

Ziva took a deep breath. She _knew_ this was coming- it had been coming for a while. So why was she suddenly so terrified of him finding out the truth of what really happened that night?

 _Because you're afraid he'll pull even further away. And he's made such progress in the last couple of weeks._

A moment passed before she nodded, joining him on the sofa. She immediately moved to rub her belly, keeping her gaze on the swell beneath her hands for several minutes before meeting his gaze. "It... it was the day we found out... that... that we were... having Amal, and... and we'd planned a dinner party; we were going to inform the team that night. It just happened to collide with our party..." She swallowed.

He watched her, keeping silent.

"You know, it's sad, that I _still_ remember what I asked you to run out and get that night." She shook her head, tears coming to her eyes and she scoffed derisively. "I was making strudel roll cakes and the recipe called for sour cream... and..." She took a deep breath. "And because I wanted everything to be perfect for that night, I asked you to go-"

"And I went." She nodded, lower lip quivering.

"Yeah, you went."

Her gaze drifted briefly to the video playing, and she choked on a sob. "Car accident?" Another nod.

"It was snowing... You... kissed me and... left and... and I waited... but when you didn't get back immediately, I got upset... and... and then Gibbs showed up... but he wasn't alone. The police were with him. He... he'd been on his way over when he passed..." She swallowed. "They told me that... that there'd been an accident but wouldn't elaborate, asked me to come to the hospital."

Tim studied her, before gently reaching up to brush the tears off her cheeks. She gave him a watery smile, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. She sniffled, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Gibbs took me; when we got there, you were in surgery and... and we had to wait. We spent twelve hours in the waiting room... and I was..." She moved her gaze down to her belly, rubbing it gently. "I thought I would lose our son then and there..."

"Did... they ever figure out-" Ziva nodded, sniffling. She watched as her fingers worked running trails over her stomach, gathering her thoughts.

"You were at a stoplight... it was nothing you did, Tim. You did not wrong. You were at a red light and there was a woman passing in the crosswalk with a little girl holding tight to her hand and... and they'd just gotten to where you were in the walkway when this... butched up... red throat... white trash Chevrolet Silverado barreled through the light directly across from you... from what witnesses said you... honked your horn and was... just about to get out of the car to get the girl and her mother out of the way... they think you unbuckled your seat belt and were about to open the door, when the truck sla... slammed into the mother and... and then into you."

Ziva choked on sob. "The woman managed to get her daughter out of the way, but she was hit, and thrown under our car while you... you were thrown through the windshield..." She took a deep breath. "The woman didn't survive, but... but they still don't know how you did. Jeanne told me... that the damage was extensive and... and that the swelling could kill you... that they lost you twice on the table... she said it's not unusual for people to survive being thrown through the windshields of cars, but that it's... rare, I think she said. But I don't remember that."

Tim watched as she continued to rub her belly, realizing that the continuous motion was helping to keep her calm, and after a moment, he reached out, covering her hand with his. She looked up, meeting his gaze with a sniffle. Slowly, their fingers laced, and she squeezed softly. "The man was drunk, coming back from a Christmas party. He ran a red light at a hundred twenty miles an hour on a busy street in downtown Georgetown in the middle of a snowfall and... slammed into our car... killed a woman, left her little girl without a mother, and nearly took my husband and the father of my child from me before our baby even had a chance to make his presence known... and then... the bastard somehow managed to stagger out of his truck and flee the scene... they brought him into Bethesda on Valentine's Day... the day I took that video... I... slipped out of your room to go down to the bathroom and... and they were wheeling him in..."

"Someone go after him?" She shook her head.

"Bullet to the brain... suicide attempt... _ben Zonah_ died two hours later... and because you can't prosecute a _dead man_ , it never went to trial... but I did meet the little girl you tried to save... she asked me to thank you... that her mother had heard you honking your horn and..." She sighed. "I blamed myself. If I hadn't been so... set on that dinner being so perfect, then... then you wouldn't have gone out and... you wouldn't have ended up in that coma... wouldn't have lost your memory... it's _my fault_... if I hadn't _asked you to_..."

"Hey, look at me." She shifted to look at him. "It's not your fault. You are not to blame. I would have gone anyway. And... I'm sorry it happened, but... but we can move past that, right? I'm here now, and though... though I don't remember... I can try... I am trying..."

"I know you are." She brought his hand to her mouth, pressing another kiss to his palm. A sob escaped her throat, and she leaned against him, burrowing into his chest. "What did I do to deserve having a beautiful man like you to call my own? You've given me so much, Tim... a marriage... a home... a baby... but what in God's name did I do to earn the right to call you mine and mine alone?"

He held her close, resting his chin against the top of her head, his arm slipping around her waist as she returned their linked hands to the swell of her belly.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

He stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, studying his reflection. Ziva was curled up on the sofa downstairs, taking a nap, which left Tim with plenty of time to think.

 _Thrown through a windshield, you were thrown through a windshield... how the fuck did you survive that? People don't generally survive something like that!_

Guilt clogged his throat; guilt at leaving Ziva alone for three months while he resided in that coma, for putting such stress on her, for scaring her like he did...

 _You didn't have a choice, you slipped into a coma. People don't just randomly slip into comas because they feel like it. You did so your body could heal, so you would be there for that little boy growing in her belly. And even though you don't remember him, that's why you did it- just like why you alerted that mother that night. Your instincts were kicking in, even back then, before that baby even started growing._

His gaze moved over his reflection. Slowly, he reached up, brushing his hair back as he leaned forward. He could just make out the puckered line of a scar running over his head, where they'd peeled back the skin and cut his skull open to relieve the swelling. If he ran his fingers through his hair, he could feel it; a war wound unseen, but there nonetheless.

 _Just be fucking grateful you didn't end up on Ducky's autopsy table between Kate and Cassidy._

Yeah, there was that.

 _Or in the freezer, with Lee in the upper right corner, Director Shepard to your lower left, Franks on your upper left, and Pacci on your lower right with you smack in the middle. Not exactly ideal bedfellows, but then again, they'd probably be better than Ziva. At least none of them snore._

He sighed, lifting his head, noticing the jagged scar that ran down his neck- Ziva had said something about them having to open his throat and fix the tube they'd inserted in his throat because he'd begun to hemorrhage thanks to the damage to his body and blood had come up the tube-

 _Could be worse- they could have shredded your throat... or destroyed your vocal chords, but then again, the doctors at Bethesda are the best on the East coast._

His hands then moved down his chest, fingers trailing over a good-sized scar on his chest.

 _Jesus, how much damage did that accident actually do? Um, hello! You were hit head on by a truck at a hundred twenty miles an hour! You went through the windshield of your car, and from what Ziva was told, into the windshield of the truck that hit you! You're bound to look like Frankenstein after something like that._

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest- the same heart that had stopped beating twice on the operating table. And while he was in surgery, Ziva had sat out in the waiting room, pregnant with his child and sick with worry, terrified that she was going to lose both her husband and her baby in one night. Thank God Gibbs had come with her, thank God she wasn't in the car.

Though he still looked like himself, just... with little differences here and there. The green of his eyes were still the same, the dimples of his cheeks were still there when he smiled, the slope of his nose was still exactly as it had been... traits that that baby growing inside Ziva might very well possess by the time he entered the world-

 _But how will he react as he gets older, when he sees the scars on your body, the remnants of the damage done from that accident? Sure, she doesn't care, she loves you- has always loved you- but that baby... he's growing inside your wife's belly, he can't see either of you, though you can see him on the sonograms. And though he probably won't care after he's first born- well, eventually, he's going to care, and he's going to ask, and you're going to have to answer. Can you really do that? Can you really explain why you're such a monster, in simple terms, to a tiny little boy?_

He took a deep breath, turning the cold water in the faucet on full blast and sticking his head under it. Though it shocked his system, it did nothing to dampen the doubt clouding his mind, and when he looked up again, catching the drops as they fell from his chin, he realized that everything ringing in his head was true.

 _I love that little boy... I... I'm learning to love him... he won't care how I look... oh yes he will. A boy's father is very important to him... but what little boy would want to spend time with Frankenstein's creation, even if the creature is his father?_

He quickly left the bathroom, pulling on a shirt and then grabbing his coat before slipping downstairs. He heard Ziva stretch and sit up, but ignored her. "Tim?" It took her a few minutes, and after some minor difficulty, she got up, meeting him in the foyer. "What are you-"

"Going for a walk."

"Do you want me to come?" He stopped, hand on the door knob. Something flashed in his eyes, as he met her gaze, and after a moment,

"No. Need to clear my head."

"Tim-" He stopped, as she grabbed his wrist. "If this is about... you are _still_ the same man I fell in love with and married, the accident doesn't change that."

He studied her. "Actually, it does. And I'm not the man you married. I don't know what the hell happened to him or where he went, but he's gone. And I don't know if he's ever coming back." He pulled away, shutting the door behind him. A few minutes later, Ziva heard the car start, and she rushed into the living room, grabbing the phone. With shaky fingers, she dialed the only number she could think of, of the only person who knew Tim as well as she did.

 _"Sarah? Sarah, he.. he's gone... I... I told him... about the accident... and he left..."_


	20. Chapter 20

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"How could you let me go home with her?"

Gibbs looked up to find Tim standing on the last step of his stairs. Silently, he set down his tools. "She told you."

"I asked her too."

"You didn't take it well."

 _"You think?"_ He cried, quickly unbuttoning his shirt. _"Look at me, Gibbs! I'm a... a creature made out of spare parts, sewn together with... with blood and tissue!"_ Gibbs quickly moved to his work bench, setting his mason jar down. _"How could any woman love this?"_ He demanded, parting his hair where the scar was.

"Come on, Tim." His boss quickly made his way towards him, taking him by the arm. "Come on! Upstairs, _now_!"

Once upstairs, Gibbs pushed him onto the sofa and quickly fixed two cups of coffee, shoving one into his agent's hands and taking a seat beside him. Tim instantly set the cup down and got up. "I need a beer-"

"No, you need the coffee, now sit." Tim turned back to him. "You don't need the beer, you need the coffee, now sit down."

A flash of rebellion passed over Tim's features briefly. "You aren't my father. You aren't _anyone's_ father."

That did it.

Gibbs was up and had Tim pinned against the far wall so fast the younger man didn't have time to blink. He didn't say a word to the younger man, just stared into his eyes, studying him, seeing the doubt, anger, fear, hatred... every emotion it was possible for a human being to possess reflected in his gaze. "I was a father once, Timothy. And I look on you as my son, just as much as I do Tony, just as much as I do Ziva and Abby as my daughters. I was a father, _once_."

He then released him, returning to the sofa. "Now come sit down and drink your coffee." He looked up, realizing that Tim hadn't moved. But he soon noticed the tears on the younger man's cheeks, and after a moment, he slumped down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest.

"I'm never going to be who I was before the accident again, am I?" The absolute defeat in his voice tugged at the sniper's heart, and he got up, bringing the other cup over and setting it beside the younger man as he joined him on the floor. "I told her that the man she married is never coming back..." He swallowed thickly. "It really wouldn't surprise me if I went home and she's left-"

"Ziver's not going to do that, Tim."

"How do you know?"

"Because no matter what you say in anger or frustration isn't how you really feel, and she knows that. She knows the stress you're under, trying to regain your memories, and the last thing Ziva's going to do is walk out on you. She loves you, she wouldn't be able to; her heart wouldn't allow it."

"But it'd be better, in the long run, wouldn't it?"

"No, Tim, it wouldn't be. Not for either of you, and not for that baby. He needs both his parents in his life, and no matter what you think, you are going to be the most important man in that boy's life- you _are_ the most important man in his life, just as you are in Ziva's."

The younger man swallowed, resting his head against the wall, his green eyes closing. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he took a deep breath. "He moves... I can feel him move when I lay my hand on her stomach and... but I don't... I don't remember creating him, at all. I don't remember the night he came into being... and I don't know if I'll ever remember... I'm trying, Gibbs, I swear, I am. But... but what if I never remember? What if there's always this gap in my brain where certain memories of my son and my wife should be... but aren't? What happens if I never get them back?"

"Then you make do; you remember and treasure the memories you make now and into the future. And if they don't come back, then they don't come back. But you don't beat yourself up about not remembering, because it's _not your fault_. And it's not Ziva's, or the baby's. Okay?" A moment passed before he nodded. Gibbs gently reached up, taking the younger agent's head in his hand. "Everything will fall into place, Tim, you just need to let it happen." Then, he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his agent's forehead.

The moment he stepped into the house, Sarah was up and yanking him into the kitchen. She'd gotten the shots she needed, and so her assignment had finished early, and she'd returned home a couple days earlier- just in time for the blow up at her brother's house. "Where the hell have you been, Tim? Ziva called me in tears! That isn't good for her or the baby!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I went to see Gibbs... I just... I couldn't be around her... not after learning about the accident..." He took a deep breath, leaning against the counter of their island. "Sarah, I went through the windshields of two vehicles- ours and the truck that hit me. I died twice on the operating table... I started hemorrhaging... and then I slip into a coma that lasts for three months, only to wake up a month later and discover that I have no memory of the accident, of that night, or of the woman who's sitting by my bed holding my hand to her growing belly. She's telling me that we're married, have been for four years, and that she's pregnant with my child- after I've come out of a coma due to an accident that most people don't survive. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that?"

"You _just_ _do_ , Tim." Sarah ground out, stamping her foot. "God, if you weren't recovering from a head injury right now, I'd smack you so hard _Amal would feel it_!" She took a deep breath. "You _suck it up_ and _be there_ for your wife, because she is _pregnant_. She is carrying _your_ baby-"

"A baby I _don't remember_ creating!"

"That _doesn't matter!_ Ziva is _pregnant, Timothy!_ She is having your baby in fifteen weeks whether you like it or not! And you are going to be there- you are going to be at her _appointments_ and her _Lamaze classes_ and you are going to be there when she goes into labor and gives _birth,_ because that is _your son_! And you are a _McGee_! And McGees _stick to their commitments, damn it!_ So you are going to go in there, and you are going to take your wife into your arms, and you are going to kiss her and hold her and apologize, and then you are going to help her through the next four and a half months left, and you are going to keep your mouth _shut_ and _smile_ while you do it, _are we clear_?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Six_

They didn't speak to each other for a week. And by the time they did, Ziva's twenty-sixth week had begun, on the heels of a three-hour long conversation- Ziva admitted that she was just as scared as Tim was, and he apologized profusely for the way he'd acted the week before.

He looked up from filling the tea pot. "You okay?" She nodded, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, just... just starting to feel Braxton Hicks, that's all." A moment passed before Tim nodded, setting the kettle on the burner and turning it on. He leaned back against the counter, watching her as she sorted through all the scrapbook materials on the table. Once she was done, she stood-

"Whoa, easy." Ziva looked up to find Tim having rushed to her side; he met her gaze, worry in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just... stood up too fast." He nodded, satisfied that she was okay. "So, picture?"

He chuckled softly. "Let me get the camera."

Ziva followed him into the living room, undoing the buttons of her blouse. By the time she joined him, she was in nothing but his sweats and her bra. After the photos were taken, she made a beeline for the sofa, sinking into it with a sigh. Tim chuckled as he joined her, helping her to put her feet on the pillow resting on the coffee table. "Relaxed?" She turned to him.

"As good as I can be with this... lump having taken over my body." She giggled, running her fingers over her belly. "But I do have more energy, so I guess that's a plus. Jeanne said that it'll start going down when I start the third trimester."

"Which starts after this week." She cocked her head at him. "The third trimester starts at week twenty-seven and lasts until week forty. What?" She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Nothing." They sat in silence for several minutes before she moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "We start Lamaze class after my checkup next week."

"And?" She looked up at him.

"I'm nervous." He pulled away.

"Why? You're not nervous about anything-"

"But this is different." She sat up, shifting fully to face him, her hands moving to her belly. "Once we start Lamaze, then..." She bit her lip. "Then that means there are only... three... four months left and then Amal will be here. And... and soon I will be forty weeks and... and he will be coming..." She swallowed. "He will be coming out... and I will have to give birth, I will have to push him out of me... Tim, I _can't_ do that... I can't give birth... I can't push _another_ human being out of my body, I don't know how, I..." She choked on a sob. "He... he just... he needs to stay in, he... he needs to stay inside me, I... I don't mind. I... don't mind being pregnant, I can get used to it... I just..." But she didn't finish her ranting and worrying, because Tim had grabbed her face, brushing his lips firmly against hers.

When he pulled away, he met her gaze. "You okay?" Slowly, she nodded, her teeth sliding out to worry her lower lip. He kissed her softly, one hand moving down to rest against her belly- "Is that your navel?" She nodded, following his gaze.

"Yeah, it is." She sighed. "I feel like an overcooked turkey." They shared a glance before she burst out laughing. "And I probably look as though I'm wrapped too tight in cellophane, with all these stretchmarks. Honestly, I don't see how any woman can look beautiful, least of all-"

"You are beautiful. How many times do I have to tell you that?" He asked, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. Over the last few weeks, Tim had slowly opened up; the videos had helped, as had Ziva's stories, though his memories weren't fully back, and nowhere near completely regained, Tim could now recall details to visits to Israel- not specific visits, though; as well as details on dates they'd had and certain parts of holidays they'd spent together. Though the memories of their wedding and the time leading up to the accident still hadn't returned, it was getting better.

But what thrilled Ziva to no end was the fact that he no longer kept away from her; maybe because she forced him to have contact with her and Amal- though he didn't talk to the baby, he did talk to Ziva, and she knew the their little boy could hear his father's voice, that he could recognize his voice. She had also started noticing that whenever she mentioned Tim at all, the baby started to kick and move with enthusiasm.

She grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm before allowing him to get up. "You're going to meet Sarah for lunch?" He nodded, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his wallet.

"You want to come?" She shook her head.

"No, I think I'll go upstairs and take a shower and then... try and take a nap. With any luck, our baby boy will let me get some rest." He nodded, going to her and helping her to her feet before pulling away. "Have fun. Give Sarah a kiss for me." She grabbed his wrist before he could dash off to the door. "Hey." He turned back to her, brow furrowing. "Kiss me. Please, Tim." He hesitated briefly before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She let him go, settling for the display, knowing that while he'd gotten to the point where he was starting to get comfortable touching her, he still wasn't comfortable kissing her- despite the number of nights they made love.

Once he was gone, she glanced down at her belly. "What do you say, _ahuva_? A quick shower and then a nap?" The baby shifted. "Sounds good to me too."


	22. Chapter 22

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

She stepped out of the shower, heading into the bedroom. After quickly drying herself off, she pulled on a pair of underwear and reached for a bra, stopping when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The bra dropped onto the bed, and she turned to the side, studying the swell. Her navel stood out, as though announcing itself before a crowd, and the swell of her belly was round; not as round as it would be by the time she gave birth, but. The stretchmarks reminded her of snake tracks in the desert sands of Israel, in search of prey.

She ran a hand over the top of her stomach, pushing gently. A sharp kick met her in response, and she watched as her belly shifted due to Amal's movements. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, hands moving to cradle the bottom of her belly. Another kick- this one sharper than the last- pressed against her palms, and she moved her hands up towards the center of her belly.

A soft groan escaped her throat as she felt him pedaling against her hands. _This is a precursor to walking, remember? Jeanne explained it at your last appointment._

However, the thought didn't make her feel any better.

He soon stopped, seeming to wear himself out, and Ziva sighed. "Are you done, hmm, _ahuva_? You done practicing walking for the day?" She picked up her bra, pulling it on and then settling back on the bed, against the pillows, not even bothering to slip into Tim's sweats. Eventually, the baby would kick her bladder and she'd end up getting up to go to the bathroom anyway, it was just easier to wear nothing but her underwear at the moment.

With a soft sigh, she began to relax, her eyes closing as sleep began to tug at her-

Her dark eyes snapped open, and she sat up, letting out a gasp. " _O... h... ow!_ Oh, _God_ , those are my _ribs_ , Amal! You know, those things you keep hitting when you stretch and move? Yeah, they are a part of me that cannot be replaced... but they _can_ be bruised, so be careful, _please_!" She growled softly, rubbing her belly, a thought coming to her. "Do you miss Daddy, Amal? Hmm? Is that it? You miss _Abba_?" The baby shifted, stretching out; she watched as a knee pushed up briefly and quickly against her skin before disappearing. "I know, _ahuva. Abba_ wasn't here for you the first three months you were growing in my tummy; but he's here now, and he's getting better. He's starting to remember more- not what he should... not our wedding or much of our marriage, or _you_ , but he _is_ remembering. _Abba is_ getting better, sweetheart." The baby kicked hard against her kidney and she winced. "Have patience, baby boy. _Abba_ will come back to us. He has to."

She sighed, continuing to rub her belly, watching as her stomach moved and shifted with each kick and stretch. She talked to him, telling the child growing within her of the first time she'd met Tim, and how he'd welcomed her instantly, when the rest of the team had turned against her, of their first date and when they moved in together, and how they'd been trying for ten weeks before finally succeeding in conceiving him.

And the entire time she talked, Amal moved and shifted, stretching and kicking and rolling through her tummy to the sounds of his mother's voice, to the mentions of his father. Even when Ziva shifted to lie on her side, she kept talking, kept rubbing her belly, telling Amal stories of his father and the man she'd fallen in love with, the man who was slowly- very slowly- coming back to them, to her. "I hope you have his eyes, _ahuva_. Those beautiful green eyes I love so much."

Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke two hours later to the sound of footsteps on the staircase, and slowly pushed herself up. "Tim?" Taking a moment, she finally got up, heading into the hallway, to find her husband coming up the stairs, a to-go box in his hands. He stopped, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realized that his wife was in nothing but her underwear and sports bra. She smiled softly at him, hoping to ease his discomfort. "Hey."

"I... I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to wake you up."

She winced lightly, as the baby began to kick and move again, hearing his father's voice. Gently, she laid a hand on her belly. "That's okay. Did you and Sarah have a good time?"

"Yeah, we did. We... went to lunch and then there was an art exhibit at the modern museum of art that she's been wanting to see so I went with her. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get home so late."

"It's okay, sweetheart. You need this time with _Sarit_. You won't have it as much once the baby comes."

He nodded, glancing down at the box in his hands."Oh, um... we... had lunch at _Gianna's_ and I know how much you love their Zeppoli."

She let out a gasp of excitement. "With chocolate sauce?" He grinned.

"Of course." His wife let out a squeal, rising up to kiss him quickly on the lips.

"Oh, _toda, ahuva_!" As she moved past him, heading for the kitchen downstairs, he watched her go, noticing that the sway of her hips had changed as her joints had opened, allowing her belly to expand. He followed her into the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and heating it quickly in the microwave, watching as she delightedly took a bite of the sweet dessert, the warm chocolate sauce dripping down her chin. She looked up at him, blushing as she realized how she must look. "Sorry."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee before setting the cup down and going to her. "It's okay." He reached out, catching the chocolate drizzle with his thumb. She watched him suck the sauce off his thumb with red cheeks, her mind instantly going to the gutter. "I've noticed that you're quite cute when you make a mess."


	23. Chapter 23

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

They lay together in bed, facing each other, hands laced, mouths tasting and searching. Another shower- this time, with Tim joining her- had resulted in an impromptu sex session, and now the two lay together, sharing kisses amid the blankets of their bed. She slowly broke the kiss, meeting his gaze she tugged him closer, pressing his hands against her expanding middle. He only tried to pull away briefly before giving in. "Go ahead, push. You won't hurt me." When he didn't, she pressed down on his hand-

His green eyes darted to hers as the baby moved, pushing against their hands. "Our little sprinter."

"Did you feel _Abba_ against my tummy, hmm, Amal? Daddy's here, he's lying right beside us, with his hands on my tummy... he can feel you move. Will you keep moving, sweetheart? Hmm? Will you move for Daddy? I don't mind." She glanced at her husband. "Talk to him."

He started, pulling away and propping himself onto his elbow. "What?"

"Talk to him. Talk to our son, Tim. Let him know you're here. He spent the first three months of his development without your voice... and you avoided touching me- and essentially, him- for the last three, so _talk_ to him. Let him know that you're here, and that you aren't going anywhere."

"But... what do I say? What do I tell him, that I was in a coma for the first three months he was growing inside you and that I don't remember him and barely remember you?"

"No." She shook her head. "Just... just tell him that you love him, and that you will always love him and will always be here and will do everything you possibly can to keep him safe, for the rest of his life. He knows who you are, Tim, he knows your voice when you talk to me... so... so just talk to him. Don't talk to me this time, talk to him." He sighed, nodding slowly.

"Um..."

"You can get closer." He met her gaze. "You don't have to talk to him up here. He's in my belly, not my head. You can move down and talk to him."

A moment passed, before he sat up. Ziva adjusted, sitting back against the pillows, watching as Tim moved down towards her stomach. He glanced up at her, before swallowing thickly. "Hi... hi, little one." He glanced back at Ziva. "What do I say?"

"Just introduce yourself, sweetheart. He'll listen."

He nodded, taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to her belly. "Hi, sweetheart. I'm your... I'm your _Abba_. Listen, I... I'm sorry that... that I wasn't around the first three months of your growth, but... but I was hurt, very badly. And I... I didn't know if I would ever get better, but I did." He took a deep breath, feeling Ziva's fingers slip into his hair. "And I... I know that I don't remember you or _Ima_ , and I... I'm sorry for that, but I'm trying. I swear, I'm trying to remember you and _Ima_. And I... I do love you, baby boy. Don't... don't ever think that I don't love you, because I do. I may not remember you, but I do love you, because you're my son."

Ziva groaned softly. "Yeah, I know, sweetheart. I know, that's _Abba_ 's voice!" She reached down with her other hand, caressing the skin of her belly as the baby continued to move and kick and stretch within her. "You know _Abba_ 's voice, don't you?" She glanced at her husband, who looked up at her. "His kicks get stronger when I talk about you, or when he hears your voice, even if it's us talking together. He knows you, Tim. He loves you, because you're his daddy. He wouldn't react this strongly if he didn't."

Her husband nodded, before leaning down and brushing a soft kiss to her stomach. "I love you, little one."

Tears filled her eyes as she watched him, and she choked on a sob as Amal moved, rolling towards her right side, where Tim's voice was. "You love him? But you don't remember him."

He joined her, taking her chin and gently brushing the tears off her cheeks. "He's my son. I'm going to love him whether I remember him or not." She kissed him softly, choking on a laugh.

An hour later, Ziva had pulled on her bra and underwear and Tim pulled on a pair of boxers and an undershirt, before grabbing his phone. They'd been recording the baby's movements for the last couple of weeks, as Gibbs had said, and the couple found that such an activity only brought them closer. Ziva lay back against the pillows propping her up, one hand rubbing her belly. "You have the camera?"

"Yeah, it's recording." Ziva took a deep breath, pushing gently on her belly. A moment passed before the baby kicked in response.

"Oh, that one really hurt." Tim chuckled.

"He must be doing somersaults in there."

"Or running laps." She replied, pressing again on her belly. The baby kicked, pushing her skin up briefly. "Or maybe he's practicing martial arts."

Her husband snorted softly, rolling his eyes. _"That_ wouldn't surprise me. You are a ninja, after all."

"Just because Tony calls me a ninja-" She stopped when he raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you're right." She pressed against her stomach again. "I can't believe that I start my third trimester next week. It... it doesn't seem real." She winced as the baby kicked. "Oh, that hurt." She glanced at her husband. "Soon he'll be out of my tummy and in the world... in our arms..." She bit her lip. "And we'll be parents."


	24. Chapter 24

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Seven_

She took a deep breath, studying herself in the mirror. No matter what way she looked at it, or how she tried to get the dress to lay, her belly still protruded, her belly button being the leash the led her stomach into the room before she herself entered. She sighed, quickly untying the wrap and dropping it to the bed. This was a bad idea.

When Jeanne had suggested they take a couple days to get away before the baby came, Ziva never imagined that Penny would call and suggest that they come up and spend some time with her and Sarah- who had gone up the week earlier- at her house on Cape Cod. But here she was, twenty-seven weeks pregnant, in a dark blue polka dotted halter bikini- Sarah had insisted, and she could always wear a wrap over it it she wasn't comfortable.

The thing was, Ziva wasn't particularly comfortable in anything at the moment, least of all her skin.

She sighed, resisting the urge to scratch. Thanks to her ever expanding middle, the skin over her belly was often dry. She grabbed the moisturizer out of her bag and gently rubbed it over her belly. A soft knock caused her to turn, as Tim slipped inside. "Hey, you ready?" He stopped in the doorway, gaze drinking her in. "You okay?"

"I don't... want to go. I don't want to go to the beach. Can't... can't we just stay in?"

"You're self-conscious? You? You are the most self-assured person I know, and yet you're self-conscious." He made his way towards her, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close.

"You would be too if you had a... bulging stomach with stretchmarks and-" But he silenced her with a soft kiss.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to."

She frowned softly. "But I want to go to the beach. It's been so long since we've been to the beach, and after Amal's born-" But he rested a finger against her lips.

"I think I have an idea."

Ziva settled back against her husband's chest, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Thank you for doing this for me, Tim." He grinned, meeting her gaze.

"Hey, we used to do this all the time, why should it be any different now that you're carrying our baby?" She pulled away, turning to look at him.

"You remember doing this?" He thought a moment, before nodding slowly, his teeth coming out to worry his lower lip. "Vaguely. They're... the memories are there, they just-" She reached up, resting a hand against his cheek.

"I understand, sweetheart. _Toda_."

 _"Al lo davar."_ She kissed him softly, before moving to relax against him. After Ziva's spiel about not wanting to be seen in public in a bathing suit, Tim had gone into the adjoining bathroom and run a warm bath before stepping in and helping her in after him. They'd then settled against the back of the tub, Ziva situated between her husband's legs, her back against his front. Ziva had been truly touched, realizing that, even though Tim didn't remember, he was doing something they often did in the evenings after a difficult case- only still in their bathing suits, so that the only person who would see her in her bikini was him, which made her feel better.

They had also attended their first Lamaze class the day before, and for some reason, it had freaked Ziva out to no end. Most likely because attending Lamaze meant that soon the baby would be ready to be born, which meant that soon he would be out in the world-

She sighed. "I don't know that I like Lamaze." He slid his arms around her, gently rubbing her belly. Ziva watched, before reaching down and squeezing his hand gently in encouragement. In so many ways, he was becoming the man she'd married again, even if he didn't realize it. Yes, he memory was still... broken, the amnesia still strong and prominent in every aspect of their lives at the moment, but there were times when the Tim she knew and loved and remembered shone through.

It was a work in progress, just like their son.

He looked down at her, furrowing a brow. "Why not? The whole purpose is to help you get used to the birth process, and to understand what's happening during childbirth so you don't-"

"Have a meltdown." She finished, and he chuckled.

"Yes." His wife wrinkled her nose, tilting her head back to look at him.

"You realize that I am going to have a meltdown when I go into labor whether I like it or not. Lamaze classes are not going to change that, nor are they going to help me deal with the fact that Amal is going to have to come _out_ of me, and that _I_ am the one who is going to be _pushing_ him out. So it does not matter whether I take Lamaze classes or not, because it is going to be the same result: I am going to meltdown, our _son_ is going to enter my birth canal, and I am going to be pushing a ten pound human being through a very, _very small space_ between my legs."

"Our son is _not_ ten pounds; most likely, he'll be about six, _maybe_ seven at most when he's born."

She sighed, studying her nails. "Well I feel like I am carrying ten pounds. Actually, I feel like I'm carrying about twenty pounds, and they just keep growing."

Tim chuckled softly, brushing a kiss to her shoulder. "Well, I think that you look absolutely beautiful, and by the time you give birth, you'll be gorgeous." She turned to look at him.

"What did I do to get so lucky, hmm? How did I end up winning the husband lottery?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Oh, God, he's moving..." She let out a groan, grabbing onto Penny's wrist. Dinner had just finished and she and Sarah were helping with the dishes while Tim put the leftovers away and cleared the table.

"Ziva, are you okay?" Concern filled Sarah's green eyes, and Ziva nodded.

"Yeah, he's just..." She groaned, straightening.

" _Don't ever do that again!_ " Sarah cried, rushing to her sister-in-law's side. " _I thought you'd gone into labor!_ " The Israeli shook her head.

"No... Amal still has a lot of growing to do. And while he's doing that, he's also decided that playing with my ribs would be a good thing to do." She took a deep breath, as Sarah helped her take a seat at the table. Tim hurried to her, concerned. _"Oh, that's my rib cage..."_ She looked up at her husband, gritting her teeth. "He likes my ribs, for some strange reason. Decided he'd rather play with them than everything else inside me."

"He's definitely my brother's baby." Sarah muttered, squeezing Ziva's shoulder. "Likes the breast area before he's even out of the womb." Tim stuck his tongue out at his sister, and Sarah returned it, playfully. "I love you, Timmy."

" _Bite_ me."

Penny chuckled at her grandchildren's antics before turning to her grandson. "Timothy, sweetheart, why don't you take Ziva into the living room and help her get settled. Sarah and I can take care of the kitchen. You focus on your wife."

The couple did as told, settling on the sofa together. She glanced at her husband, sighing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, it just... it startled me. I wasn't expecting him to kick me that hard."

Tim chuckled. "Well, thanks to our son, Sarah's had some practice for when the real thing happens."

Ziva grinned, turning her gaze to her belly as she lifted her shirt up. "Is that what you were doing, _ahuva_? Hmm, is that what you were doing, teaching _Sarit_ how to react so that when you really do decide to come out, she'll be ready? Aren't you a good boy, keeping _Sarit_ on her toes. She needs that."

" _It's not funny, Ziva_!" Tim rolled his eyes at his sister's reply came barreling from the kitchen. He sighed, propping his elbow on the back of the sofa.

"We are going to have to think about that, though." She met his gaze, seeing the questions he wanted desperately to ask, and understanding that he wanted to talk without Penny and Sarah in the next room over. Gently, she reached up, tracing his jawline, before sitting up and moving to the edge of the sofa. Tim stood, helping her up.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." She sighed, glancing down at her belly, as Sarah and Penny joined them. "Thank you for dinner, Penny, it was delicious." The older woman smiled softly at her.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Now go get some rest while you can."

By the time eight-thirty rolled around, Tim and Ziva lay facing each other in bed, talking softly, the same subject on their minds. "What if I don't remember after he''s born? What if I never regain those memories? I... I mean... I have very vague memories of our wedding and the last four years, but... but nothing concrete in my head that I can grasp. And I've watched the videos I don't know how many times, but... but the memories never come back, no matter the number of times I play that DVD."

"They will, sweetheart. They'll come back in time. Have patience."

He shifted onto his back, folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. "We don't _have_ time. Our son is going to enter the world in thirteen weeks. Do you know how fast thirteen weeks can go? In the blink of an eye. Pretty soon, we'll be in the birth center, or... hospital or... where ever you want to be, and you'll be in labor, pushing that little human being out of your belly, and yet, I won't have any memory of the night we conceived him or the day we found out we were pregnant. Sure, there's video, but that's not the same as possessing the actual memory."

"Tim," He glanced at her. "Amal won't care if you remember the night he was conceived or not. All that he'll care about is that you hold him and that you love him and will be there to protect him and watch him grow. _That's_ what our son will care about when he's born. That his _Abba_ is there to meet him when he comes out." She shifted closer, resting her head against his chest. "You are his _Abba_ , Timothy. Amal _loves_ you... just like I do."

He sighed, as she brushed a kiss to his chest, and after a moment, he lifted his head, moving one arm down to take her hand. They laced fingers, and silently, Ziva tugged his hand until it rested over her belly. A smile tugged at his lips, and he glanced at her, mischief lighting in his beautiful green eyes. "He never stops moving, does he?"

She shook her head, chuckling softly. "Hasn't since the moment he was conceived." She then pushed herself up, catching his lips in a deep kiss. The baby kicked hard in response, already annoyed with his parents display of affection. "I love you, Timothy." She wasn't expecting to hear the words in response- due to the severity of the accident, it would take a while for him to feel comfortable enough to say those three little words back to her- so she was pleasantly surprised.

"I love you, too."


	26. Chapter 26

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

They returned home two days later, tired but content to be in each other's presence. Those three little words buzzed in her head like wasps in a nest, and she kept stealing glances at her husband throughout the day.

 _He said it, he told you he loves you... that means he must be remembering!_

She told herself, however, not to get her hopes up so soon. Jeanne said that it could take months for him to regain his full memory back. But Ziva would take his confession as progress, either way.

So it was that afternoon that she found herself sitting in the middle of the nursery, baby clothes spread out around her as they got everything organized. Her belly protruded in front of her and she had her legs spread out, a pile of baby clothes in front of her. Tim had, out of the blue, grabbed his phone and begun recording, and she looked up at one point, grinning at him. "So what are we doing today, Mommy?"

Ziva sighed. "We're going to be sorting through Amal's baby clothes, putting away the things that will be too big for him after he's first born, and keeping out the things that he'll wear in his first... six months of life."

Tim chuckled. "And... how many weeks are you, exactly?"

She raised an eyebrow, but played along anyway, knowing that it was helping her husband to remember the child he didn't remember making with her. "I'm twenty-seven weeks. So, next week is the official start of my third and final trimester, which means our little baby track star will be born soon." She reached up, resting a hand on her belly.

Ziva felt most comfortable in nothing but her husband's sweats and a bra, and so that was what she wore half the time when they were home. With her expanding belly, she didn't feel as comfortable in clothes now, mainly because the skin of her stomach was so sensitive. "Is he moving?" She nodded, meeting his gaze.

"He hears your voice, _Abba_." She winced, gritting her teeth, and after a moment, Tim set the phone down, leaning it against the shelf of the bookcase in the room before joining her. "Our little one likes your voice. He is very active when he hears you. More so than when he hears me."

"Well he hears your voice all the time. And your heartbeat, and the expansion and contraction of your lungs, and all the other things a baby hears when they're in your womb." A moment passed before he slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and squeezing gently. She reached up, catching his shoulder gently. "He loves you, just like I do."

They shared a soft kiss before he moved to help her. In minutes, they had everything sorted and either safely tucked away or hung up in the closet. Ziva held a pair of pink booties her mother had made for the baby; she hadn't moved from the floor, and was sorting through a small chest of things her mother had made for her first grandchild. "Oh, Tim, look." She held the tiny shoes out to him. "In thirteen weeks, our little Amal is going to be wearing those."

Her husband chuckled, handing them back before he slowly lifted another pair of booties out of the chest, this pair crocheted grey with black buttons. Ziva took them with a smile, studying them momentarily before holding them over her belly. Tim shook his head, a glimmer of amusement in his green eyes. "I don't think they'll fit you. They might be just a _little_ too small."

She rolled her eyes, smacking him gently on the arm. "Very funny." A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she studied the shoes. " _Ima_ 's made all of these-"

"She's made enough for an army."

"Yeah, she has." They locked eyes. "She's convinced that after Amal is born, we will have another. Both she and _Abba_... they want as many grandchildren as we can give them... but I am not going to be like that woman on TV who kept having babies into her fifties, one right after another. I want to wait a couple years before we decide to have another."

Tim swallowed, paling slightly. "Can... can we... get through having this one first? He... he hasn't even come out yet..."

She nodded, reaching up to caress his cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But _Ima_ was in tears when I told her you'd out of the coma. She truly thinks the world of you, Tim. She and _Abba_ both, which surprises me, because _Abba_ is so particular. But there must have been something in you that he saw that he liked, because he didn't forbid me from dating and marrying you." She then returned the shoes to the box and held out her hands. "Help me up, please."

When she was finally back on her feet, she rested her hands on her back, a small smile tugging at her lips. He went to the bookcase, picking up the phone and turning off the camera. "What?"

"Tim, could... could I have some hot chocolate, please?"

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "You had some this morning."

"I know. But I want some more. Please? Pretty please?" He chuckled softly.

"Fine. Now go lay down. You look exhausted." She kissed him quickly, before going to the door.

"I am growing your baby, Timothy. Of course I am exhausted. Growing human beings is hard." Tim shook his head, going downstairs. He'd made the drink that morning after Ziva had woken up due to the cramping in her legs, as a way to help her feel better. It had taken him an hour to work the cramps out of her legs, not that Tim minded. She was growing his baby, after all.


	27. Chapter 27

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: Why can't certain people just accept that this is _fan fiction_? Why do you read McGiva if you don't _like_ it anyway? Go read Tiva. **

**Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 18 and 19, with, you know, real, _actual_ reviews. Not _anonymous_ ones that tell- pretty much my _sister_ -in-law, because this is _her_ story, I'm just uploading it- to 'stop, screw off and that she wishes she was in pain. It hurts'. If you don't like McGiva, _DON'T FUCKING READ MCGIVA! Go READ Tiva, there are PLENTY on this site, and leave me and my sister-in-law ALONE._ I think part of the reason she stopped writing was not only her mental health and other personal issues, but _also_ that reviewers like you finally got to her, so she stopped. Sorry. That's my rant for the night. **

_Week Twenty-Eight_

Ziva lay on the exam table, her shirt pushed up, watching as Jeanne gently examined her belly. Tim leaned against the near wall, hands in his pockets, watching silently. A small smile tugged at the doctor's lips. "What is it?"

The older woman glanced at the agent, before gently pressing on one particular spot of Ziva's belly. "You feel that, Ziva?"

The expectant mother nodded. "Yeah. What is it?" Jeanne grinned.

"That's his head."

"What?" Ziva slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows, not sure she'd heard the woman correctly. She glanced at Tim, who shrugged, just as confused as she was.

"This space here," A moment passed, before she helped Ziva sit up and then took the mother's hand, resting her fingers against her belly. "feel that hardness?" Ziva nodded. "That's his head. He's moved into the right position."

"Right position?" Jeanne turned to Tim, giving him a small smile.

"For birth. He's going to be growing in that position for pretty much the rest of your pregnancy. He'll move around some, but as it gets closer and there's less space, that'll stop, especially when it comes time for him to be born. But right now, everything looks good, he's strong and healthy. He's exactly at the weight and length he should be. You're doing fine, Ziva. Now go on, get out of here. I'll see you in two weeks."

The drive home was silent, and when they got home, Ziva perched on the edge of the sofa, unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it off before turning her attention to her belly. She skimmed her fingers over the skin, stopping when she felt the baby's head. Even though he'd changed positions, he was still an active little boy, and Ziva watched in silence as her belly shifted and rolled with her son's movements.

"What are you thinking about?" She looked up, accepting the cup of hot tea he held out as he joined her.

She sighed. "He's... in position. His head is down and... and that means that... that soon, he's going to be coming out of me. Tim, I... I'm terrified. I... I don't want him to come out. I want him to stay in. I know that sounds... crazy, but..."

He shook his head, setting his cup down and reaching out to cradle her face in his hands. "No, that's not crazy at all. You've had this tiny human being growing inside you for months... of course you're terrified. You have every right to be."

"And you'll still be here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's my baby, isn't it? I may have lost my memory, but I'm fairly certain it's my baby."

Ziva chuckled, blushing. "Yes, it's your baby." She reached up, brushing her fingers over his forehead. "And your memory's getting better. You still don't remember our marriage or our son's conception, but you remember us, and that's a good thing." She sighed. "Now, shall we take that picture?"

He helped her to her feet and grabbed the camera, following her to the wall near the window. Hands on her hips, she smiled softly as he snapped a couple shots, before moving to cradle her belly. And once he'd printed the photographs, he joined her at the kitchen table, where they were working on the baby book. "I still can't believe that soon, we'll be adding information about his birth and how much he weighs and how long he is and what time he came into the world-"

"It doesn't seem real."

She turned to him, realizing that he spoke on more than one level- not just in regards to her pregnancy, but in regards to the last several months of his life, from December on, when she nearly lost him to that accident. Silently, she reached out, taking his hand and squeezing gently, before leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips.

Ziva then pulled away and pressed the photograph down, making sure the glue stuck before moving away. She glanced at Tim, who gave her a soft smile, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

 _I may still be cooking, but I won't be inside Ima for much longer!_

 _Twelve weeks left to go..._

Done with the page, they put it aside to dry and then headed upstairs. Ziva crawled into bed, suddenly exhausted but unable to sleep. Tim followed, settling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He soon felt Ziva snuggle close, resting her head against his chest, and after a moment, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She sighed, playing with the buttons of his shirt. "We have class today."

"At four."

She buried her face in his shirt. "I don't want to go."

Tim chuckled softly. "Well, we're signed up, so we have to go."

"Can't we not and say we did?"

He thought a moment. "I could be wrong, but I think they take attendance." She groaned softly.


	28. Chapter 28

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"... you're going to be learning a number of techniques over the next several weeks that will help you be able to deal with the pain of labor and childbirth."

 _This is ridiculous. I know how to breathe, I know how to squat, I know how to push, I don't need to take classes on how to do these things. Just tell me when and I'll do them._

"What?" Ziva's head snapped up, to find the coach- a woman in her thirties named Julia- smiling softly at her. "Sorry, I-"

"It's okay, Ziva. Now, we're going to be learning how to do a proper hip-squeeze today." The one good thing about the class, Ziva had to admit, was that Julia didn't stick to a rigid schedule. She taught a little bit of everything during each class. "As well as the four good positions that can be used out of bed during the laboring process."

The Israeli glanced around the room; they were at the local birth center where the classes took place, in a good-sized room; there were plenty of pillows and medicine balls to be used to practice, not that Ziva intended to practice- not that she had much choice. There were about six other couples in the class as well, all in various stages of pregnancy. She glanced at Tim, rolling her eyes.

"Now the four positions that can be used during labor-"

"Standing, squatting, kneeling and sitting." Ziva muttered quietly under her breath.

"Is there a problem?"

But evidently not quiet enough.

She looked up, meeting Julia's gaze. A moment passed before she rolled her shoulders back, "This is ridiculous. All we learn is how to breathe. Well, newssplash, we all know how to breathe! We all know what's going to happen when we go into labor, because our bodies are going to be telling us what to do! We don't need a 'teacher' telling us how to deliver a baby."

Twenty-five minutes later, Ziva slammed the door of the car closed and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. She glanced at her husband out of the corener of her eye.

"Well, Tony will be interested to know that my wife is the first woman to be _kicked out_ of a Lamaze class."

"I was not kicked out-"

"You were _barred_ , Ziva! _Barred, banned, forbidden!_ Do I _need_ to go on?"

She turned to him. "I don't know why you are so upset. You thought it was just as stupid as I do." Tim rolled his eyes.

"That's not the point I'm trying to make." He replied, starting the car.

"Then what _is_ your point, Timothy?"

"My point is that you drew a knife on the instructor and threatened to gut her with it!"

"I did not threaten to gut her, thought I thought it. And I didn't threaten her at all!"

"You sat there cleaning your nails with your knife. Which, honestly, is fairly tacky, but that's besides the point-"

"What is the point?"

"You got _banned_ from the class." He finally pulled into their parking space and shut the car off, turning to her. "Look, I wasn't any happier than you were to go to those stupid classes, but it gave us something to consider and focus on while we get ready for the baby." She reached out, cradling his face.

"We have each other to focus on, and Amal. We don't need those classes. Our whole focus is going to be on Amal, because it is going to be the day he comes into the world-" She stopped, suddenly realizing what he meant. "Wait, you mean... focus on something other than... than your struggling to remember, don't you?"

Tim nodded, meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry, I just... for a couple hours, my mind wasn't racing; it wasn't trying to find and connect memories together that are no longer there..."

"Oh, Tim... why didn't you say anything?"

"And admit that _Lamaze_ was keeping my mind off my failure to recall my own wife and child?"

She brushed her thumb against his cheek. "You aren't a failure because you can't remember. You were in an accident that took your memory. But you haven't completely forgotten. There are things you do remember. You're remembering new things every day; I see it. You are doing wonderfully, sweetheart. And while... while you aren't the man I remember... you're getting there. Patience, my love." She kissed him softly before getting out of the car.

Tim shut the door softly behind them, turning when he felt Ziva step up behind him. "Come on." She caught his wrist, tugging gently towards the living room. "There's a video I want you to see." He followed, inserting the DVD she indicated into the player before joining her on the sofa. She snuggled into his side, slipping her hand into his as the video began to play.

Soon, an image came up onscreen, one of Ziva nearly seven months earlier. "God, look at how flat your tummy is." She giggled, squeezing his hand.

 _"Hey sweetheart. It's me. I... I have something important to tell you."_ She set the camera down on the table, before taking a seat beside the bed and reaching out to take his hand. _"I.. I told you a couple weeks ago, and you were... you were really excited, but... but you probably don't remember now. So I'll tell you again."_ She brought his palm to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the skin, before moving his hand down to her belly.

 _"Tim... Timothy, listen to me. I... I'm pregnant. You hear me? I'm pregnant. I have your baby growing inside me. Do you hear that, ahuva? You're going to be a daddy. I have... almost eight months left to go, so you have to wake up before then so that you can be there and watch our baby being born. You have to be there to catch him when he comes out, and to hug and kiss him..."_ She sniffled, reaching up to quickly wipe her eyes before leaning over the bed. _"You understand me, Tim? You can't leave me, not yet, not until we're old and grey... you know why? Because I'm pregnant."_ She pressed a kiss to his bandaged head. _"I'm pregnant, Timothy. That means you're going to be a daddy."_

Ziva glanced at him, reaching up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. "I came in, and told you that, every day for nearly four months. And then one day... you came back to me. Not the same, with not memory of me, but you still came back. So how can you feel like a failure, Tim? You _came back to me. That's_ what's important. Everything else will come in time. I know it will."


	29. Chapter 29

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 and 28; DS2010 for reviewing 20, 24, 25 and 28 and mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 28.**

"You look good, Ziver."

She blushed, whispering a soft thank you to Gibbs. The Team Leader had stopped by after work, carrying a large, wrapped cardboard box. He, Ziva and Tim sat in the living room, talking over coffee and tea, but the agent noticed that the young father's gaze kept drifting towards the box, where it sat near the fireplace. He chuckled.

"Go on." The pair turned back to him. "Go on, open it."

After a moment, Tim got up, bringing the box over and setting it down as Gibbs moved the coffee table out of the way. They quickly sliced through the box, revealing something wrapped within soft packaging. Gently, they lifted it out of the packaging, and Tim set it on the sofa between him and his wife.

It was a beautiful wooden box, made of smoothed oak, with the baby's name carved into the center between two whittled symbols- the Celtic knot on the left and the Star of David on the right, signalling his heritage. "A toy chest?" Ziva glanced at their boss, confused.

"Open it." Slowly, Tim did as told; held together with small wooden dowels, the only metal on the box was the clasp that opened it. His mouth dropped, and Ziva leaned over.

"Tim, what-" She glanced at Gibbs, just as shocked as her husband. "Oh, Gibbs, thank you but... but you shouldn't have... you... you've already given us so much..."

Inside the toy chest were various toys, all hand-carved out of sturdy oak; toy planes, small wooden balls, hand-carved blocks, pull-along toys of various types- cars, horses, ducks, a set of beautifully made stacking rings, a number of small wooden toy trucks and cars, some painted various colors, a couple wooden puzzles for him to play with when he got older, and two or three wooden rattles that Gibbs had lovingly carved with the meaning of the baby's name on the handle.

Clearly, the agent had put a lot of thought into this gift- the couple weren't having a baby shower; Ziva wasn't thrilled about the idea of having a small party, besides, they had all they currently needed and more for when the baby came, and still, were receiving gifts from the other agents at NCIS as well as Fornell and some of the agents at the FBI, and also from family and close friends. It seemed, the closer Ziva got to the end of her pregnancy, the more they received from family and friends.

"Keep looking. There's more at the bottom." Without a word, Tim gently lifted the toys out; Ziva took several of them, studying the work.

"Gibbs... this must have taken you... _weeks_..."

The older man shrugged. "A baby can never have too many toys. Plus, these won't wear out as quickly as store bought ones."

"They're beautiful, Gibbs, thank you." The older man gave the expectant mother a soft smile, as Tim finally pulled out several articles of clothing. He shook out what appeared to be a baby-sized bathrobe, beautifully made of soft white cotton, but what got the young father-to-be was the hood; it had two little black ears on either side, shaped like lamb ears. "What is that?"

"A robe." Gibbs replied. "Fornell stopped by the office today, told me Diane had made it for the baby; Emily suggested that it be a lamb."

"For our little lamb, huh?" Tim said, handing it to his wife before returning his attention to the bottom of the box. There were several more articles of handmade clothing- including a knitted sweater, gloves, booties and scarf that Ellie Bishop- from the NSA- and her husband had given them, a couple beanies- one with ears, eyes and a nose that looked like a dog, and the other with two puffs on the ear flaps- from the sisters at Abby's church, a little ensemble in blue from Mrs. Vance- and then Tim lifted something out of the box that was neither crocheted clothing or wooden toy.

"Is that a-" Ziva met her husband's gaze.

"It's a... a porcupine." The two shared a glance. "A soft, plush pink _porcupine_." Ziva laughed. "Who-"

"Breena. Palmer brought it up and asked me to give it to you." Tim handed it to his wife, who studied the little animal.

"Oh, Amal will love this. Tell Breena and Palmer thank you for us."

Two hours after Gibbs left, Tim came upstairs to find his wife sitting in the middle of the nursery floor, the toys spread out around her, the small, stuffed porcupine Breena had made for the baby in her hand. A moment passed before Tim joined her. She'd changed out of her clothing into his sweats and a sports bra, and sat rubbing her belly absentmindedly, clearly lost in thought. "What's running around in that brain of yours?" He asked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

She sighed. "That... that Gibbs and... and the others would... would do all this for us. I mean... look at these toys... Gibbs must have spent hours on them, and the chest... they're beautiful." Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Amal does not know it, but he is very... very loved. By not just us, but... by everyone we work with, at NCIS and the FBI and even... even the NSA!"

"We rally around our own. And you and Amal... you're one of our own."

She swallowed, resting her forehead against his cheek. "I've always wanted to belong, I just... I never realized that I did. But now... now thanks to you, Tim, I... I have something I never dreamed would ever be possible." She kissed his cheek. "I have a home."


	30. Chapter 30

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Twenty-Nine_

"I can't believe Ziva got _banned_ from Lamaze! No, wait, actually, I _can_ believe that." Tim rolled his eyes, as he shut the door softly behind his colleague. Tony had come over carrying a box.

"Because I am a woman or because I'm pregnant, DiNozzo?" The senior agent looked up as Ziva entered from the living room. In Tim's sweats and an over-sized shirt, it wasn't hard to miss the swell of Ziva's stomach. The agent set his present down and went to the expectant mother, enveloping her in a hug.

"Neither. Just surprised you'd actually pull a knife on the instructor." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "How you doin', Mama Ninja? You look-"

"Watch what you _say_ , DiNozzo. I will not be responsible for anything she takes the wrong way." Tim warned, moving past the pair and heading into the living room, pressing a kiss to his wife's head as he went. Tony pulled away, noticing that the chain that held Ziva's star also held two rings.

Ziva followed his gaze, reaching up to feel the rings. "My fingers have continued to swell, so I took them off to be safe." She then turned towards the box, curiosity piqued. Tony chuckled, kneeling down to pick it up, following Ziva into the living room. He sat on Ziva's other side on the sofa, and opened the box, pulling out his gift. "Tony, you gave us something for Amal already-"

"I know, but I saw one similar to this in the window and couldn't resist. Besides, I know he'll appreciate it when he gets older." The couple shared a glance before turning back, watching as Tony unwrapped his gift form the paper. Ziva let out a gasp, covering her mouth.

Sitting within Tony's lap was a piggy bank made of beautiful cedar, in the shape- of all things- a porcupine. "I have a friend in upstate New York that makes things like this and sells them, and last time I was up there for the holidays, I saw an elephant one in the window of his shop. So, I called a couple weeks ago, asking if he'd be willing to make a piggy bank for the baby; I picked it up last week when I was up there visiting."

"Oh, Tony, it's beautiful." Ziva gently took the bank, turning it upside down; despite the heavy wood and lacquer, it was surprisingly light. The bottom of the base the porcupine sat on came off with a firm twist, and after a moment, Ziva reached inside. "There's... there's something inside it." A moment passed, before she removed a rolled up piece of paper. A cry of surprise escaped her lips and she dropped the slip; Tim picked it up. His eyes widened.

"A... t... Tony this is a... it's a receipt for a savings bond for..." Tim swallowed, meeting his wife's gaze. "For ten-thousand." The older agent nodded. " _Why_?"

"Well, I know how you two have been saving for little ninja's college fund, and I- well, Abby and I, actually- figured that we'd help take a bit of the stress off. So we both put in five thousand, and took it to your bank. It's in a special account, so the money is safe, and will be there when he needs it."

"Tony, you didn't-"

"Hey, we all make good money, and this is important." He replied, reaching out and taking Ziva's hand. "Baby ninja's gonna go to college, and the two thousand you've got so far is a good start, but college is expensive. This will help. And... by the time he graduates high school, it'll have doubled. And you can always keep adding to it, but this will get you started."

By the time Tony left, Ziva was in tears- grateful tears, but tears none the less.

Two hours later, the couple sat across from each other at the kitchen table, having a quiet dinner. Ziva glanced at her husband, taking a deep breath. "Amal is very lucky, to have such caring people in his life before it even begins." She reached down, stroking her belly gently. Tim nodded.

"I think Tony's vying for the godfather position." Ziva chuckled.

"Well, he has it, hands down. We should have told him, today when he was here. He would have been thrilled."

"Next time." They returned to dinner, becoming lost in the silence, before Tim spoke up again. "We didn't take that picture today." She met his gaze, suddenly realizing he was right.

"After dinner?" He nodded.

When they finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, Tim grabbed the camera, following his wife into the living room. Ziva had since removed her shirt and stood by the wall, cradling her belly, waiting for him. She looked up, a small smile on her face as she saw the flash, and once the photos were printed, she joined Tim at the kitchen table, the baby book open before them.

Ziva quickly laid everything out on the page, watching in silence as Tim glued everything into the booklet, including a copy of the savings bond receipt that Ziva had copied and printed earlier. She brushed her fingers over the image, fresh tears coming to her eyes as she read the small paragraph beneath the shot.

 _Uncle Tony and Auntie Abby surprised us today- he brought me a porcupine bank, with a receipt for a savings bond in it! And he told Ima and Abba that he and Auntie Abby had each put in five thousand dollars, making my savings bond ten thousand dollars total! It was such a surprise gift that it made Ima cry!_

"Our little boy is not even here yet, and I think he is the most loved baby in the entire county." Tim chuckled softly, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek.


	31. Chapter 31

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

She watched, absentmindedly rubbing her belly, as Tim made sure the wooden mobile Gibbs had made was secure over the head of the baby's crib. Like everything else in the nursery, Gibbs had made the mobile out of sturdy oak; the little painted wooden trains, cars, planes and boats swayed as Tim gently pushed it, to make sure it was stable. A small smile came to Ziva's face.

The nursery didn't really have a theme, like many parents opted for. Themes just weren't their style.

She glanced around the room. The second toy chest- the smaller one, for Amal's baby toys- sat by the window, while the other one, the bigger one, for the toys the boy received when he got older- was resting comfortably on the floor of the closet, waiting to be used when the boy got older; both could easily be used to store quilts and pillows and things when he reached college.

After a moment, she went to her husband, sliding a hand around his bicep and resting her chin on his arm. He looked back at her, before she pulled away, sighing. Once done, they left the nursery, slipping into the bedroom. Ziva settled against the pillows of the bed, her hands on her belly. Tim joined her, watching as she counted softly under her breath. But her eyes soon snapped open and she turned to him. "Do you want to count his kicks?"

Tim raised an eyebrow before Ziva reached out and took his hand, resting it on her belly beside her other one. "What do we do know?"

"Well, from what Jeanne told me, we're supposed to count ten kicks. If we get to ten, everything's okay. Think you can do that?"

Her husband chuckled softly. "Math? Hello, MIT graduate. I _think_ I can count to ten."

They easily got to ten kicks in a matter of a few minutes.

Once they finished that, they spent the rest of the time talking softly together, their hands resting linked against her belly. Eventually though, Ziva pushed herself up, away from the pillows, her legs out before her, her protruding belly jiggling and stretching with each movement of her son. She groaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh, that's my _kidney_ you just kicked, Amal."

Tim chuckled, moving closer to her. "He's very active, isn't he?"

Ziva nodded. "Especially when he hears your voice." She met his gaze, before leaning close. Their lips met in a soft kiss before Tim pulled away, allowing Ziva to lie back down. Once she was settled, Tim scooted down; he'd taken to talking to the baby in the evenings when they went to bed, telling stories of when he'd grown up with Sarah, and what it was like to work on Gibbs's team.

"How you doin' in there, baby boy?" He glanced up at his wife, who smiled softly at him, reaching down to rub her belly quickly before she moved to stroke her fingers through his hair. "Hmm? You doing okay?" The baby kicked hard in response to his father's voice. He chuckled softly. "Be nice, sweetheart. _Ima_ can only take so much." He sighed. "I wish I could remember you, little one. I'm starting to remember _Ima_ and... and our marriage, but... but the memories are hazy. I can't quite grasp them, no matter how much I want to."

"You're doing better, sweetheart. You may not remember our marriage much, Tim, but you are getting better. It just takes time and patience." Ziva groaned as the baby began to pedal against her stomach to his parents' conversation. "Something our little Amal does _not_ seem to be _grasping_!" She sighed, rubbing her belly. "He is exactly like his _Abba_."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? How is our son-"

"You are just as impatient-"

He scoffed. "The one who's impatient, my darling wife, is _you,_ not me. Patience is a virtue, after all."

She sat up quickly, wincing as the baby's foot connected roughly with her ribs. " _Oh, God!_ Amal McGee you _stop_ kicking my ribs _this instant_! You have been going after my ribs _a lot_ lately and _it hurts_!" She reached down, pressing firmly on her belly. " _No more_ , Amal! You _hear_ me? _Not tonight_! I am up half the night with insomnia anyway, I would really rather appreciate it if you didn't _damage_ my ribs while I'm up."

The baby seemed to settle down momentarily before it kicked back firmly in response to Ziva's demands. Tim chuckled softly, which only made the baby kick harder.

"Did you just... put our son in a _time-out_ while he's still in your womb?"

Ziva blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Believe me, Timothy, he needs it. I do not mind being a punching bag, but that is just ridiculous."

Her husband shook his head, sitting cross-legged beside her as he reached out, brushing his fingers over her belly. Ziva watched, before reaching down. She pressed gently on her right side, looking up at her husband. "He's shifted. His head is right here." Tim watched in silence as she pressed firmly on the side of her belly, a grin coming to his features as the baby moved; it was almost as if the skin of her belly seemed to slide further down on that side, though he knew it was because the baby's head was resting against her side. Without a word, Ziva grabbed his hand, resting it against the bulge. "Feel that, Tim? That's his head. He likes whatever side your voice is coming from- that's where he shifts to."

"So he can-" He stopped, and she nodded.

"Yeah, so he can hear you." She sighed, covering his hand with hers. "I know you don't remember him, Timothy, but... but I think... I think on some level... on some level you do. But that level... _that's_ the level you can't remember. That's the level you're trying to regain again."


	32. Chapter 32

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _"I'm ten weeks today, Tim. Ten weeks and... and two days, Jeanne says. He's... he's growing... he's growing strong and healthy like he's supposed to."_ She sniffled. _"I know that it's way too early to tell, but... but a part of me just... just knows that we're having son. That... that you gave me a little boy. I just know it."_ She reached over, taking his hand and resting it against her stomach. _"I have a tummy, Tim. It's small, but... but it's there."_

He sighed, rubbing his forehead, turning the volume down on the video so as not to wake his wife. Eventually, though, he stopped the video and took it out, getting up and putting it away. He then ran his gaze over the other videos, pulling one from the stack.

 _Week Twenty_

After a moment, Tim removed the DVD and slipped it into the player before grabbing the remote. The image that came onto the screen wasn't another visit to his hospital bed. In fact, it wasn't a visit to the hospital at all.

It was video of a sonogram.

The well-known side images that every parent saw when they looked at the sonogram of the baby within the uterus. He could see the baby's nose and lips, and his little hand as he stretched within Ziva's belly. The video lasted for several minutes before it switched, and suddenly, Tim was looking at his son's tiny face- he could see the baby's closed eyes, the tip of his nose, his small lips...

On the video, the baby shifted, stretching his arms and legs, and Tim choked on a gasp as the baby put his thumb in his mouth.

"It was very clear that we were having a boy, but..." He turned as Ziva came into the room, joining him on the sofa. "But I wanted her to tell me, so that I could tell you that we had a baby boy growing in my tummy." She looked up at him, reaching up to gently thumb his lower lip. "At first, you couldn't see anything... just the gestational sac... and suddenly, there was a little bean of a baby... and then suddenly... suddenly, there was this little baby."

She snuggled close, her hand moving down to caress her belly. "I wish I could have been there."

"But you're here now, _ahuva_." She leaned up, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Regaining your memory is just going to take time." She yawned, settling against him.

"You should be in bed, asleep."

"Sleep would be wonderful, if my body would let me." He chuckled softly, getting up and helping her to her feet.

"Well, since you can't seem to sleep and neither can I, how about find something to occupy our time?" She raised an eyebrow.

"As long as you let me be on top instead of lying beside me this time-" He laughed, going to the stereo and putting a CD into the player.

"I don't mean that." She furrowed a brow.

"You to dance with me?" He nodded, and she sighed. "Tim, _ahuva_ , that is sweet, but you are not going to be able to get your arms all the way around me-" But he rested a finger to her lips.

"Just hush." Then, he took her hand, spinning her around until she was facing away from him. He then slid his arms around her middle, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he pulled her closer. She reached down, lacing their fingers together as they began to sway gently to the music.

"We used to do this a lot, before the baby."

"Hmm. I remember." She looked up at him.

"You remember?" Tim nodded, meeting her gaze.

"Bits and pieces, but they're coming back. That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh, sweetheart, absolutely." Ziva squeezed his hand. "Things from our marriage?"

"Some... there are... still large gaps, and I don't remember the accident or our wedding, but..."

"But you're remembering. The amnesia's getting better, slowly, but it's getting better." She nudged her nose against his chin as they continued to sway, before he leaned down, kissing her softly. The baby kicked hard against their hands, and Ziva laughed. "I think Amal likes this- dancing. I think it relaxes him, the swaying." She yawned, nuzzling into him.

When the music stopped, Tim pulled away. "Come on, let's go to bed." She sighed.

"I told you, I can't sleep-"

"Then we'll do something else."

They slipped into bed fifteen minutes later, and spent the time talking softly together. Ziva snuggled into Tim's chest, lacing their fingers together and resting them on her stomach. Amal kicked against his parents' hands, and Ziva groaned, sitting up. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Tim chuckled, propping himself on his elbow. He reached out, gently rubbing her belly. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but you have eleven weeks left."

She sighed. "I know. I just... I guess I'm just... tired of being pregnant. I know that's a horrible thing to say, but..."

"Not at all. You have every right to be. You're growing our son, it's got to be exhausting."

She flinched as the baby kicked hard against his father's hand, and after a moment, Tim leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of his wife's stomach. "Shh, hush, baby boy. There's no need for that at this late hour. _Ima_ needs her sleep, sweetheart. And you moving around isn't letting her get any rest." He continued to gently rub her belly, talking softly until the kicking seemed to stop. Ziva looked at her husband, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Wh... how... when... why didn't you think to do that _weeks ago_?"


	33. Chapter 33

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty_

"Oh my God, _look at you_!" Tim watched as the youngest _Da_ vid wrapped her sister in a hug before pulling away to rest her hands on her belly. _"Oh God, Ziva, you're so big!"_ Ziva blushed, resting her hands on the top her belly, as her sister gently brushed her fingers over the older woman's stretched skin. "The last time we saw you, you were still trying, and now you're _pregnant! Honey, congratulations!"_

Tim leaned against the far wall of the living room doorway, drinking in the sight of Ziva's parents, younger sister and future brother-in-law. The girls' older brother, Ari was in London, a doctor at one of the hospitals, and so wasn't here to visit. But Tali, her fiancee Malachi, and their parents had just gotten in. Ziva wrapped the younger girl in a hug, rubbing her back. "I'm so glad you're here, Tali. It's so good to see you- to see all of you."

Tali pulled away, turning towards the living room; her dark eyes lit up when she spotted Tim. _"Tim!"_ Though Tali was four years younger than Ziva, the two women could have passed for identical twins. She had the same dark eyes and small, upturned nose Ziva possessed, and was roughly her sister's height and build as well. But that was where the differences currently ended- at DNA. Tali had chopped her hair into a pixie cut that surprisingly fit her small features, and streaked it with mahogany highlights. She'd filled out, much like Sarah had, possessing a curvier figure than when he'd seen her last.

He gave her a soft smile, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. "Hey, Tali."

"You remember me?" She asked, pulling away, dark eyes lighting with excitement. Slowly, he nodded.

"Watching the videos of our visits helps too." She grinned, wrapping her arms around him again. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Tim." When she pulled away, Malachi gave him a quick hug. He then turned nervous eyes to Rivka and Eli, Ziva's parents. Eli made his way towards him, holding out his arms. After a moment, Tim stepped into his father-in-law's arms.

"It's good to see you again, Timothy. How is your memory?" The younger man pulled away.

"Doing better, but still not fully back." Eli nodded, taking his son-in-law's shoulders.

"Keep focusing on my daughter and grandson, they will help you through this. Especially since he will be here soon." He turned back to Ziva, who was in Rivka's arms. "How many more weeks until our grandson makes his entrance?" Tim quickly did the math in his head, but it was Ziva that spoke up.

"Ten, _Abba_." She went to Tim, slipping her hand into his and grinning at her husband. Tim returned the smile, relaxing once his wife was by his side. Though he remembered Ziva's family- the memories were there, but scratchy, distant- he still felt uneasy around them. Even though they weren't new to him, since the accident, they were, even though he'd known them for years.

When they settled in the living room with coffee; Ziva stayed close to Tim's side, knowing the nervousness he was feeling, and Rivka sat on her other side. "How long are you going to be here for?"

"Two weeks, if that's okay, Zivaleh." Eli replied. "Give us some time to enjoy our children before they become parents."

"Of course, _Abba_ , that's fine. You can give my husband some tips on being a father." Ziva reached up, brushing her fingers through Tim's hair before resting her forehead to his briefly. She groaned softly, her free hand moving down to her side. "Oh," She took a deep breath, glancing at her family. "He's starting up again with his stretching."

"Is he an active little boy, Ziva?" Tali asked, wrapping her arms around her knees as she shared the ottoman with Malachi. Her sister nodded.

"Very active. He hardly ever stops." She rubbed her side, releasing a soft breath. "Easy, Amal. I know, you're excited because _Savta_ and _Saba_ and Auntie Tali and Uncle Malachi are here to visit, but that doesn't mean you can-" She groaned. "Excuse me." She stood, shaking her head. "I swear, I've spent the last two days in the bathroom because he's pressing on my bladder."

Rivka chuckled softly. "I remember those days; I cannot tell you how relieved I was to not have to go to the bathroom every five minutes once she was born." She turned to Tim, who studied her silently. A small smile played on her lips, and he bit his lip.

"You look like Ziva. You're her mother, right?" She nodded, reaching over to take his hand.

"How have you been, Timothy?" He swallowed.

"It's been... difficult, watching her grow and... having no memory of the baby or of our wedding and marriage, but..." He stopped, turning to the others. "It's getting better. Watching the videos helps, and hearing Ziva's stories and... and looking at pictures kind of helps, but... but there are days when I wonder if I'm going to be in this amnesia fog for the rest of my life."

Rivka squeezed his hand. "It will get better, Tim. You are already making progress. When I talked to Ziva a few months ago, she said you wouldn't even touch her or the baby because you didn't remember them, but now you're holding her hand and from Ziva said, touching her belly and talking to the baby." She reached up, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. In that moment, Tim saw every bit of his wife reflected in his mother-in-law, from her heart to her very soul, and it seemed to calm the panic in his mind, if only briefly. "Have faith, my son. Have faith."


	34. Chapter 34

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Rivka glanced up from the spinach she was chopping; Ziva had stopped kneading the dough for the bread, a faraway look coming to her dark eyes. One hand had moved down to cradle her belly, and a small smile played on her face as she gently rubbed her tummy. Her mother chuckled softly, pushing the chopped spinach aside before grabbing the basil and proceeding to work on it.

"I know that look well." Slowly, Ziva turned to her mother.

"What look, _Ima_?" Rivka met her gaze.

"The one you were wearing a moment ago. It's the same look I wore when I was pregnant with you." She set the knife down, quickly wiping her hands and then reaching out to caress her daughter's cheek. "Pregnancy is a beautiful time, Zivaleh. It's the time when a woman goes from being a wife to becoming a mother, and it's meant to be cherished. And I know it hasn't been easy since the accident, since Tim came out of the coma, but he is trying."

"I know, _Ima_." She sighed, looking down at her belly.

"Soon there will not be enough room in there for him to move, and then I will be in labor, and then..." She swallowed. "And then I will be giving birth... I'm scared, _Ima_. What if I can't give birth, or something goes wrong and I have to have a c-section? What if I'm not big enough to give birth?"

"Oh, Zivaleh." Rivka gently took her daughter's face in her hands, brushing her thumbs against her cheeks. "A woman's body changes during childbirth... you have nothing to worry about. Besides, Tim will be right by your side, helping you through-"

Ziva hissed as the baby kicked, just as Tali entered from the living room. " _Abba_ wanted to talk to Tim alone. From the look on your husband's face, Zivaleh, he was looking for the closest, quickest exit." Her gaze moved to her sister's belly. "Is he moving?" Ziva nodded. "Can I... feel it?" A moment passed before Ziva nodded, and Tali moved closer, sliding an arm around her sister's waist as she laid her hand over the swell. " _Wow_..." Ziva chuckled at Tali's breathless response. "Has Tim felt the baby move?"

Her sister pulled away, going to the table and taking a seat as her mother and sister followed, pulling the chairs close. "Amal is more active whenever I talk about Tim or mention him or if he hears Tim's voice. There are nights when we will be in bed talking and I will have to get up and walk around during the conversation because he will not stop moving."

"He knows his daddy." Tali replied, grinning. Ziva nodded, looking down at her stomach.

"Yeah, he does. Especially after everything we've been through." She met her mother's gaze, her fingers moving over her stomach. Tali let out a little squeal when she felt the baby kick hard against her hand.

"Oh... oh, I _want one_!" Rivka's smile instantly faded, and she gently tapped Tali on the back of the head. " _Ow, what was that for_?"

"No babies."

"But... _Ima_ , I thought you _wanted_ _grand-babies_?" Tali replied as Rivka got up and returned to her work.

 _"No babies, Talia!"_

"But, _Ima_?"

 _"No! You are too young!"_

 _"Malachi and I are engaged!"_

 _"No babies until Malachi puts that wedding ring on your finger, are we clear?"_

 _"But Ima-"_

"Zivaleh's baby will tide your father and I over until you get your _butt_ in gear and walk down that aisle, are we _clear_ , Talia?"

The younger girl crossed her arms over her chest, pouting, a sight that sent Ziva laughing. When she finally regained her composure, she leaned close. "Been putting the wedding off?" Tali nodded, and Ziva reached up, squeezing her sister's arm. She then sat back against the chair, fingers moving to caress her belly. "Don't worry, Tali. You'll be pregnant soon enough. It doesn't take a lot to make a baby. Trust me, I know. Isn't that right, little one?"

He kicked in response, and Ziva sat up straighter, releasing a breath. Tali's head snapped up. "Ziva?"

A moment passed before her sister got up, moving away from the table towards the kitchen doorway. "Have to _pee_ again." She groaned. "I am going to be _so glad_ when he is _out of me!_ " Tali chuckled, getting up and joining her mother.

"I can't believe Zivaleh's going to be a _mommy_ soon. It doesn't seem... real."

"It can be very real if you find the right person, Talia." She stopped working on the basil and turned to her youngest daughter. "Your sister found a wonderful man, and she has started a family with him. Timothy is a good man; he's good for your sister. And... even since the accident... he's proven that he is more your sister's safe haven than anything."

"But he was in an accident, _Ima_. Any couple would divorce after that, baby or no baby."

"Not your brother-in-law and sister."

"But... _why not_?"

"Because even with the amnesia, Tim's heart recognizes the connection he shares with Ziva. And it's slowly- very slowly- bringing him back to her."

Tali nodded, tearing off a small piece of the bread dough and popping it in her mouth. She thought a moment, before glancing at Rivka. "Hey _Ima_?"

" _Ken, ahuva_?"

The girl bit her lip, gathering her courage. Better to just say it before she turkey-ed out. She swallowed the dough, buying herself time to get the words in order. Her dark gaze watched as her mother worked, noticed how Rivka still looked as young and youthful as she was in old photographs. Her mother was a very beautiful woman- and she'd passed that beauty on to both her daughters. "Do... do you think I'll be as beautiful as Zivaleh is when I'm pregnant with my first baby?"


	35. Chapter 35

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"You really don't mind my family staying for the next couple of weeks, Tim?"

"Why would I, they're family."

"I just... I don't want you to get stressed. You've been doing so well-"

"But I'm not where I should be. I don't have the memories that matter the most." She turned to him as he sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "You, our marriage, our son."

"Tim, I love you. And I know those are important to you, but they will come in time. We need to focus on the now, and on the future." She rested her chin against his shoulder, sliding her arm around his bicep. "And our little Amal." She rubbed her belly. "Because he is our present and our future at the moment. Those memories will come, _ahuva_ , you just need to give them time to find each other and surface. Okay?" He sighed, nodding. "I love you."

He met her gaze. "I love you, too."

A smile broke out across her face, and she leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back against the pillows she'd taken to sleeping against since her twenty-eighth week. Tim sighed, joining her, stretching out beside her, a hand going to belly; Ziva reached down, covering his hand with hers.

He awoke two hours later; for once, his wife was getting a good sleep, and after a moment, he slipped out of bed. He slipped downstairs with Amal's baby book, taking a seat on the sofa with a cup of tea, flipping through it. Images of his son, of his wife as their baby boy grew with him looked up at him, snapshots that showed the progression of his son's development through his mother's expanding middle-

 _You'll never regain those memories back. They're gone for good. And why would you want them back anyway? You have a son that is going to be born in ten weeks- memories that will replace the ones you lost._

He flipped to the current page. Ziva stared up at him, a smile on her face, one hand beneath her growing breasts, the other beneath her growing belly. She was glowing, that pregnancy glow talked about shining through as she stood in nothing but his sweats and her bra. A moment passed before he shut the book, setting it on the table.

"Tim?" He looked up as Ziva came into the living room, hands on her back, belly leading the way.

"What are you doing up, sweetheart? You were finally getting some sleep-"

"Had to pee again. When I came back, I realized you weren't in bed, so I... came down here." She slowly lowered herself to the sofa beside him, taking a deep breath. "Talk to me, _ahuva_. What's wrong?" He shook his head, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Slowly, Ziva reached up, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Hmm? Tim, talk to me, please. Tell me what's wrong."

His gaze darted to the baby book, and he picked it up, opening it to the current week. Ziva leaned close, hand rubbing her belly. "I just... keep thinking."

"About what?"

"The accident." He met her gaze. "I don't remember it-"

"Did you ever consider that maybe that's a _good_ thing, that you don't remember it? That it might be too painful, and so that's why you don't remember?"

"But if that's so, then why don't I remember our wedding day, or the night our son was conceived, or... the first four years of our marriage? Are those painful too?"

"No, not at all. They're beautiful, wonderful _amazing_ memories."

"Then _why_ can't I remember them? When can't I remember the night we conceived Amal? I watch videos, I see photographs, I listen to stories, but _none_ of it comes back. Ziva, what if I never get those memories back? What... what if this accident changed me- and not for the better, but for the worse? I don't remember those first four years- for all I know, I could have been abusive, neglectful-"

She reached up, taking his face in her hands. "Abusive and neglectful are the _last_ things you are, Timothy. That's not who you were before the accident, and that's not who you are now. That is the type of person you will never be, Tim. You are kind, and gentle, and good. And beautiful. And you... have made me a wife, you've given me a home to call mine, and..." She choked on a sob, her emotions getting the better of her. "and you've given me a baby boy that is... the most active, most... _amazing_ gift I could ever hope to receive."

He reached up, brushing a tear off her cheek. "But... I'm not the man you remember-"

"You're still the man I fell in love with. That will never change. Accident, amnesia or no. You will always be the man I fell in love with."

"Ziva-"

She rested her forehead to his. "You are the father of my son, and you have done everything possible to be a father, even though you have no memory of the little boy growing inside me."

"Ziva-"

But she thumbed his bottom lip, her mouth brushing against his gently. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. Tim slid an arm around her waist, his other hand resting against his wife's belly. "I-"

"I love you, too, Timothy." She breathed, meeting his gaze. "I love you so much." She reached down, covering his hand with hers. A moment passed before she pressed firmly on his hand, and the baby kicked in response. The two broke apart at another sharp kick, and both chuckled softly. "See, sweetheart? Amal loves you, too. Because you're his daddy."


	36. Chapter 36

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-One_

"Tim, Ziva, this book is beautiful. You've done an amazing job."

" _Toda, Ima_." Ziva looked up as Tim settled beside her, allowing her to lay on the sofa against him.

After breakfast, they'd taken the photograph and then added it to the baby book. Tali had then snatched the camera from her brother-in-law, and was now sitting on the edge of the coffee table, the camera pointed at her sister's belly. Tali watched her sister sigh as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged out of the article of clothing, dropping it to the floor. It really didn't bother any of them that Ziva was in nothing but a bra and a pair of sweats, her bulging stomach completely exposed; sexuality and pregnancy went hand in hand, and it was common in Israel for expecting women to bare their growing tummies around family in Israel. But that was the last thing Ziva was thinking of; for her, no shirt meant comfort, especially regarding the state she was in.

"Our doctor says he's shifted, so he's no longer head down." Tali bit her lip, a twinge of envy tugging at her heart as she watched her sister rub a hand over her belly, before resting her hands just below her breasts. Ziva lay still for several minutes, before reaching down, pressing her fingers against her side.

"Not uncommon with babies. He'll be back to head down soon, don't worry." Rivka replied, undoing some more yarn.

"Rivka, I think Timothy and Ziva have enough baby clothes to last them the next fifty years. They don't need any more." She glared at him.

"This is our first grandchild, Eli David, and if you think that baby is going to go for want of _anything_ , you-"

Ziva tilted her head back, looking up at her husband. "Right here." He cocked his head to the side, as she pressed against her side again. "His head is right here." She grabbed her husband's hand, resting it against the bulge in the side of her stomach. "You feel that?" He nodded. "That's his head."

"Do you know how you're going to birth?" Malachi asked, as he joined Tali on the coffee table; Rivka and Eli were sitting together, arguing softly about the number of booties she was making for their own grandchild. Ziva sighed, gently pushing her palm up the side of her stomach. She then ran her hand over her belly.

"Natural. No meds and no epidurals." She groaned, feeling him kick, and continued rubbing both hands over her stomach. "Come on, _ahuva_. Move anywhere but near my ribs."

"There isn't going to be much space for him to move, Zivaleh." Rivka said, finally setting her crochet down and joining her children. Eli followed, perching on the arm of the chair. Ziva tilted her head back to look at her parents.

"Well, there may not be room, but he's still moving. He's very, very active, our little Amal."

"Amal? That's his name?" Ziva nodded, glancing at her sister.

"Yeah. It means 'hope.' It's..." She sighed, rubbing her stomach in quick circles. "it's perfect for him, because he is what kept me believing that Tim would come out of his coma. And he did." She looked up at her husband. "A little battered, a little amnesia, but still the man I married." She leaned up, kissing him quickly before pulling away. "Oh, that's my rib cage." She hissed. "Damn it, Amal, how many times have I asked you _not to kick me there_?"

Rivka chuckled. "Babies don't follow their mother's orders in the womb, Zivaleh. They do as they wish. If you get bruised or hurt in the process, they really don't care."

"Yeah, I've started to realize that-" She suddenly sat up.

"Ziva? What's wrong?"

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Move, _move_!" Tali got up, scrambling out of the way as her sister rushed out of the living room. The downstairs bathroom door slammed minutes later, and Rivka chuckled.

"I remember those days. Constantly having to go to the bathroom, up and down, night and day for weeks. And then she was born, and holding her in my arms showed me it was worth it." She glanced at her youngest daughter, who had turned off the camera when Ziva got up. "That they both were."

Tali gave her mother a small smile, excusing herself to head to the kitchen. There was something she wanted to ask her brother-in-law without her parents overhearing, because God knew they'd tell her she was being insensitive to the situation. But she needed to know, otherwise it'd drive her crazy. She found him filling the kettle and placing it on the stove, turning the burner on. "Hey, Tim?"

He looked up, startled momentarily. "Hey, Tali. Thank you for videoing that for us today. We've been doing it ourselves, but... it was nice, getting to hold my wife for once."

She smiled at him. "No problem. Um... does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Not having your memories of your marriage to my sister?" He stopped, thinking.

"Yes, on some level, it does. Because there are stories she'll tell me that I have no memory of, that I may never get back. Why?"

She shrugged. "Just curious." He nodded, before feeling small her arms going around his neck from behind. She squeezed gently. Tali had felt an instant connection with the young agent when Ziva had brought him home to meet them that first trip to Israel. She'd seen a younger version of Ari, though with his own attributes- because, unlike Ari, who, while he loved Tali and protected her, didn't really listen to her opinions, though he respected them, he just didn't have the time to listen, being constantly on call as a doctor. But Tim- Tim had taken the time out to listen to her, and talk with her. "Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"For what it's worth," He glanced back at her. "I'm glad you married Ziva." Then, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and slipped out of the kitchen.


	37. Chapter 37

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Ziva?" Tali poked her head into the bedroom. Ziva was propped up against the pillows, in only her bra and underwear, hands caressing her belly.

"Hey, Tali. I thought you went out with _Ima_ and _Abba_?" The younger woman shook her head as she joined her sister, setting the video camera on the bed. "No, they went to lunch. They wanted to have a chat with Tim and Malachi, I said I'd stay here, keep you company."

"Oh, that can't be good." Tali chuckled, watching as her sister as she ran her hands over her belly. The baby kicked, and after a moment, Tali turned the camera on, setting it on the nightstand, facing her sister's stomach. She then tucked her legs beneath her.

"Does it hurt? Him moving inside you?"

"Not really... well, not at first. It does at times, like when he really kicks me hard or-" She released a slow breath, and Tali watched as her sister's skin began to move in a rolling motion. "Oh, he's pedaling... that hurts. And it hurts when he kicks my ribs especially. I have a very active little boy growing in my belly."

A moment passed, before Ziva reached up to adjust the bottom of her bra, when she felt something. Tali's brow furrowed. "Zivaleh, you okay?" Her sister groaned.

"I'm leaking, _great_."

"Leaking?" Her younger sister shook her head. Since Tali wasn't pregnant, she was out of the loop on the pregnancy speak her sister was now fluent in.

"C... colostrum. It's the... early milk..."

"Nursing?" Ziva nodded.

"Yeah, for when I start nursing. Tali, can you?" But her sister had already gotten off the bed; she came back with a warm washcloth, which Ziva took gratefully. She then sat back, watching as her sister unhooked her bra and carefully cleaned herself up. She hissed. "Ouch."

"Tender?" Ziva glanced at her.

"You have no idea. They've grown three and a half sizes in six months, and they're only going to get bigger once my milk comes in after the baby's born." Once she finished, she set the cloth aside, sighing. Tali glanced towards the dresser.

"Want me to get you another one?" But her sister shook her head.

"Not right now. There's no reason to put a fresh bra on when my breasts are starting to leak; besides, it's started to hurt, wearing a bra."

"It could just be all the extra weight you're carrying."

"Yeah, it is." They sat in silence for several minutes before Ziva asked, "Tali? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Zivaleh. You can ask me anything. You're my sister."

The expectant mother nodded, laying back against the pillows. She began absentmindedly rubbing her belly, fingers moving slowly over the skin, before speeding up. She sighed, pressing gently upward on either side of her stomach, before moving her hands in slow circles. She winced briefly. "Ow. Oh, that hurt." Tali giggled.

"What did you want to ask me, Zivaleh?"

A moment passed, as Ziva gently walked her fingers over the swell of her midsection towards her protruding belly button. She glanced at her sister, catching her gaze. "Are you... jealous?"

Tali started, caught off guard. "Jealous?"

"Of... of my pregnancy?" She stopped, biting her lip, as she pressed down on the center of her stomach. Tali watched her her sister's stomach jutted upwards. "You just... seem a little... I don't know. Hurt, I guess. That I'm getting the attention because of Amal and-"

The younger _Da_ vid bit her lip. How did she tell her older sister that, yes, to some extent she was jealous of her? That yes, she was jealous of her sister's pregnancy, because Ziva had something that Tali had dreamed of since she was a child? Tali hadn't been like Ziva- Mossad had never been in her future. All Tali had wanted was to marry and have a family- she'd gone through the mandatory two years in the Israeli army, and then left before Mossad could sink their claws into her. That she'd gone up to Turkey, gotten her degree in journalism, and met Malachi while she was up there. And while they were engaged, what Tali really wanted was a baby.

She wanted desperately what her sister now carried.

"Yes." Ziva stopped, her hands stilling on her belly. "Yes, Ziva, I... I am jealous. I'm jealous of your marriage, I'm jealous of your pregnancy... I'm jealous of the fact that soon you'll be giving birth and you'll have this beautiful baby boy... what if that doesn't happen for me? So yes, I am jealous. And I... I swear, Ziva, I don't mean to be, I don't know what's wrong with me-"

"Nothing's wrong with you, Tali." Ziva held out a hand, beckoning for her sister to join her. After a moment, Tali stretched out beside her, propping herself on her elbow. "You're human. You want your life to begin with Malachi. I understand, trust me, I do. I wanted a baby from the moment I married Tim. But we waited because we weren't ready- and now we are." She chuckled. "But to be honest, we still aren't. And... it's difficult, since the accident, but it's getting better. _Tim_ is getting better, and he loves me and he loves Amal, and he lays in bed with me at night and talks to him, and tells him he loves him. And to be honest, I _love_ it when he rubs my belly, I love it when he presses on my belly and Amal moves and stretches and kicks for him. I just... I love it when he touches my stomach. I know that sounds distorted and horrible, but... there is a tiny part in the back of my mind that finds it... incredibly... _erotic_ when my husband touches or rubs my stomach. Is that wrong? Or... or sick?"

Tali chuckled, throwing her sister's words back at her. "No, Ziva, that means you're _human_."


	38. Chapter 38

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 29, 30 and 32.**

"We wanted to talk to you both." Tim and Malachi shared a glance. The four sat outside at a local cafe, talking over coffee.

"About... what?" Malachi asked, swallowing nervously. Tim had a suspicion he knew what the conversation was about.

"Our daughters." Eli replied, and Tim sighed. Yep, he'd had this conversation with Eli the day before.

"What... about your daughters?"

Rivka chuckled, noticing how nervous Malachi was, and she reached out, patting his hand. "Nothing to worry about, Malachi. We just want to make sure you intend on taking care of Talia."

"Why wouldn't I? I love her. Just like Tim loves Ziva."

Rivka's eyes lit up, and she turned to her son-in-law, a small smile on her face. "Tim, can I talk to you for a moment, alone?" The agent nodded, getting up. As he joined his mother-in-law, he heard Malachi ask,

"He _is_ coming back, _right_?"

She slid her arm through his as they walked towards the fountain in the center of the park across the street. "Relax, I understand that things haven't been ideal for you and Zivaleh since the accident, and amnesia is a horrible thing to go through."

"So... why do you want to talk, Rivka?" She took a seat on the edge of the fountain, turning to face him once he sat down.

"How many times have I asked you to call me _Ima_?" Her voice was soft as she reached up, brushing her thumb over his cheek. He blushed.

"Sorry, _Ima_. I... don't-"

"I know, Tim." They sat in silence for several minutes, before Rivka continued. "Thank you, Tim, for marrying my daughter. You've given her a life she never dreamed possible. You've given her a son- a beautiful little boy that is going to be out in the world soon." She reached out, resting a hand on his knee, stopping the nervous bouncing that seemed to happen when he got nervous or stressed. "And once that baby is born, he is going to look to you. I know how you think of yourself, Ziva told me. She's worried about you- worried that you're putting so much stock in trying to remember that you're repressing the memories trying to come back."

He sighed. "She shouldn't be worried about me. Amal is going to be here in ten weeks, if she's worried about me, that could send her into labor-"

"Tim," Rivka reached up, taking his face in her hands. "Ziva knows the risks, okay? But Amal is perfectly healthy. She's worried about you because you're her husband. She loves you first. Yes, she loves the baby, but that baby has not been married to her for four years; that baby has not shared a bed with her, and bought a home and slid a wedding ring on her finger. That baby is the product of your love, your passion- the passion you and my daughter share made that little baby growing in her."

"But-"

"All she wants is to know that her husband is okay. She can live with the fact that the amnesia took away your memories of her, that it took away important memories of her and your life together, but what she can't live with is you beating yourself up because you don't remember, because you may not be exactly the same man she married. Timothy, my Zivaleh accepts you as you are- before the accident, after the accident, it doesn't matter to her. You're her husband, she loves you."

"She doesn't- I don't deserve her-"

"Ziva doesn't see it that way. She sees herself as the luckiest woman in the entire world, to have a beautiful man like you in her life and in her bed every night. She's blessed, knowing that the baby she carries inside her is yours."

He lowered her gaze, unsure of how to respond to that. A moment passed, before he glanced at his wedding ring. The beautiful band shone in the sunlight, and there was a tiny diamond in the center. It winked at him, and after a moment, he lifted his hand, studying it.

 _"Never doubt an Israeli about diamonds."_

Ziva now wore her rings on the chain around her neck, because her fingers had swelled with the pregnancy, but her wedding ring held the same tiny diamond in the center. "The... the diamonds in our wedding rings-" Rivka nodded.

"They belonged to Eli and I. After you picked out the wedding rings, Ziva asked if she have the diamonds from ours. Why are you asking?"

Tim bit his lip. "I... no reason." Rivka nodded, knowing her son was lying to her but deciding to let it slide.

"Tim," She took his hand, squeezing gently. "if you ever need to talk- about anything, you know that you can always call Eli and I. We'll listen. I know it seems as though Eli doesn't care, but he does. His daughter's happiness is at stake, and his son-in-law is... well, let's just say, that he couldn't have picked a better man for Zivaleh if he _tried_."

Tim snorted softly. "I just... I guess I'm just worried that my memory will get worse instead of better-"

"You're memory can only get better, Timothy." Rivka replied, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "Yes, as you get older, your memory will fail, but for now... for now, your memory can only get better. And you are doing better, Tim. I've watched you this last week and you... you are making wonderful progress."

"Really?" Rivka nodded, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. "Because it doesn't feel like I'm making progress. It feels like I'm getting worse."

"You are doing fine, sweetheart. Just remember to have faith."


	39. Chapter 39

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Two_

"Be safe. Let us know when you get back."

"We will." Tali squeezed her sister's shoulders gently before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her belly. "You be good for _Ima_ and _Abba_. Don't give them too much trouble. I look forward to meeting you soon, little one." She then stood, pressing a kiss to her sister's cheek. Once they were gone, Ziva slipped into her flats and grabbed her purse, allowing Tim to hold the door open for her.

The wait at the doctor's office wasn't very long, and soon Ziva found herself lying back on the exam table as Jeanne examined her. The doctor glanced at Tim, who leaned against the nearby wall, watching silently. "Come here, Tim." She grabbed his wrist, tugging him over to her. Then, softly, she pressed his fingers against the bottom of his wife's belly. "Right there, you feel that?" He nodded. "That's your son's head." Tim's green eyes widened in surprise, and Ziva lifted her head, watching them silently. "He's settled back into the head down position, which means he's getting ready for birth."

"Meaning he'll be here soon, right?" Tim asked, pressing gently on the bottom of his wife's belly. The baby shifted against his hand, and Jeanne nodded, seeing the amazement light in his eyes.

Jeanne nodded as she helped Ziva sit up and removed her gloves. "Have you been experiencing any Braxton Hicks contractions, Ziva?"

"A few. That's... that's common right? They aren't regular or anything, and they don't last very long."

"Good. It's only when they start coming in regularly that you should be worried. But as of now, all they're doing is practicing for when the real thing happens."

"Anything specific we need to do?" Tim asked, as Ziva buttoned her blouse and tossed her braid over her shoulder. Jeanne thought a moment before shaking her head.

"No, just... be sure to get plenty of rest, eat right, and... enjoy these last eight weeks before your son comes. Okay? I'll see you next week."

Once they returned home, Ziva headed upstairs, unbuttoning her blouse as she went, letting it drop to the floor before slipping out of the sweats she wore and settling among the pillows of their bed. As it was getting closer and closer to her due date, Ziva found clothing less and less comfortable, preferring to go only in her bra and underwear when she was home alone with Tim. He joined her, handing her the cup of tea he'd made before coming up, camera in hand. She looked up at him, watching as he set the camera up, pointing it at her belly.

She rubbed a hand over her stomach, sighing in contentment as Tim propped himself onto his elbow. "Eight weeks." She glanced at him as he reached over and rubbed her belly, something that seemed to relax Ziva further. She watched him, as he stroked his fingers over her stomach.

"I like it." He raised an eyebrow. "When you rub my stomach, and play with our son." She sighed. "I... don't know, I guess... the feel of you touching me... touching our son... after... after months of being in a coma and weeks of not touching me, not touching our son... the fact that you're finally touching me, touching our son, and talking to him and playing with him... it gives me butterflies..."

 _Like when I look at you._

Without a word, Tim leaned over, capturing her lips in a firm kiss. She reached up, caressing his cheek, deepening the kiss-

They broke apart when the baby stretched against her skin, and after a moment, Tim got up, taking the camera and holding it so that it captured the movement of her belly. Despite shifting into the head-down position, Amal was still able to give Ziva some really good kicks and punches, and the young parents watched as the skin on either side of her belly button moved out and in. "Looks like just because our baby boy's getting ready for birth, doesn't mean he's going to stop moving any time soon." Ziva chuckled, realizing her husband was right.

"Are you still moving, Amal, hmm? You rambunctious little boy." The baby kicked at his mother's voice, before continuing to stretch. She scoffed gently. "Look at that, that's... that's his hand, see it?" She giggled softly, before a soft groan escaped her throat. "Oh, it hurts when he kicks... I think it's because my skin is getting so thin-" Tim hmm-ed softly in response, reaching out and gently rubbing his hand over her belly. Ziva sighed in contentment, visibly relaxing as she watched her husband. "Don't stop, sweetheart, please. I think you doing that clams both Amal and I down."

"Clams?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She met his gaze, reaching up and covering her face briefly.

"You _know_ what I meant, Timothy!" She replied, giggling. "God, this pregnancy is messing with more than just my body, it's messing with my brain-"

Tim chuckled, moving the camera closer as he continued to rub her stomach. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Once he's born, you won't have to worry about that." Once more, the baby stretched and kicked, moving to the sound of his father's voice. "As soon as he's big enough to walk, we'll be chasing after him... hell, knowing our son, he'll be keeping us on our toes from the moment he slides out of you and into the world."

Ziva grinned, a small smile coming to her face. "If he ever comes out. He's so content to be inside me that I'm a little afraid he won't want to come out when I go into labor."

"He'll come out, sweetheart. He won't have a choice." The baby kicked in response, as though arguing against his father. Tim chuckled, knowing this was one argument Amal was going to lose."


	40. Chapter 40

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37 and 38 and DS2010 for reviewing 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 38 and 39.**

She lay on the floor of the living room; before Tim left to have lunch with Sarah, she'd asked him to bring the pillows and blankets down from their bed and lay them out on the floor, so she could lay down. There was a _Harry Potter_ marathon on and she wanted to watch it- never having seen the movies- just not on the sofa. While she could stretch out on the sofa, it wasn't as comfortable as the Serta mattress on their bed and the other beds in the guest room. So Tim, realizing what he wife was really asking, stripped one of the beds in one of the guest rooms, and brought the small double down from the first guest room and, after moving the coffee table out of the way, laid it against the foot of the sofa, before spreading the blankets and pillows about the mattress, so she could lie on the mattress and watch TV.

So Ziva now reached up, shifting the video camera that rested on the coffee table beside her, tilting it down towards her belly. It was on this rare occasion that she was feeling up to wearing clothing- after they'd returned home, Abby had come over; Ziva had had just enough time to pull on a knee-length, inch-wide strapped, surplice-neckline wrap dress that tied just beneath the corner of her right breast. Abby had been thrilled to see her, and the Goth managed to reel in her usually backbreaking, heart-stopping hug, instead opting for gently touching the Israeli's cheek before slipping her arms around the expectant mother and holding her close. Ziva slid her arms around her friend for a moment before pulling away.

The older woman- for Abby had been with Gibbs the longest, and so was looked on as the big sister of the close-knit MCRT- had just come from afternoon mass, and so wore a short-sleeved, dark green dress that hit a couple inches above her knees, and a pair of ballet flats as opposed to her usual ten-inch platforms. Ziva had to admit to herself that she was jealous of Abby's trim waist, of her small breasts. But then Abby had gotten excited about the baby and Ziva had realized she was being ridiculous, especially when Abby told her that she couldn't wait to see the baby, and determine who he looked like. Of course, the young mother had instantly said that he would most likely have the majority of his father's features. Abby had left not long after, saying that if they needed anything in the next eight weeks to let her know.

Ziva now lay propped against the pillows, stroking her fingers over the beautiful throw Abby had picked up when she went down to New Orleans the week before to visit friends. The handwoven throw- a gift for Ziva- was decorated in blues and greens and had a simple quote in the center, by Rajneesh,

 _"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born._

 _She never existed before._

 _The woman existed, but the mother, never._

 _A mother is something absolutely new."_

It was a beautiful gift, that touched Ziva deeply, and after a moment, she gently folded it and rested it on the sofa, before returning to the movie. She sighed, her gaze moving to her stomach, and after a moment, she reached down, lifting her dress up and exposing her belly. She rubbed a hand over her belly before folding her hands near her breasts. Gently, she stroked her stomach, before returning her attention to the movie-

Amal stretched, and Ziva sighed, pushing gently on the top of her belly, feeling him kick in response. She glanced over to the camera, before reaching over and lifting the camera off the table. She then pushed herself up, setting the camera on the ottoman at her feet; she then lay down, satisfied that the camera was balanced a few inches above her, so that it would video her belly from above.

She then gently pressed against the top of her belly, feeling his foot kick out in response. Sighing, she quickly untied her dress and sat up, removing the garment and dropping it to the floor before lying back down. Her hand moved, stroking up and down her stomach slowly before resting near her breasts again; she could feel him stretching and punching, and watched as her skin dipped and rose. Despite being in the head-down position, Amal was still as active as he'd been weeks ago, and with Ziva's thinning skin, it was getting easier to see and distinguish his kicks and punches.

A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she reached up, gently pushing on either side of her belly; pushing turned to rubbing, and she soon lost interest in the movie, choosing instead to watch the skin of her belly stretch as the baby moved. Her fingers skimmed over the skin of her tummy, and she sighed deeply, the action relaxing her, though it seemed to rile up her son. She chuckled softly. "I know, _ahuva_. I asked Dr. Beniot a couple weeks ago if you can feel it when _Abba_ or I rub my tummy. She didn't have an answer for me, but I think you can." She stopped, thinking. "I _know_ you you can distinguish when it's me rubbing my belly and when it's _Abba_ , even if you don't hear our voices."

A moment passed, before Amal kicked hard at her mention of Tim, and she chuckled. "You may be my boy, but you are not _my_ boy. You are definitely _Abba_ 's boy. And you know what, Amal? That's okay." He kicked again, hitting her ribs and she winced. "But you know what, sweetheart? I like it when _Abba_ rubs my tummy. It..." She stopped, mentally berating herself for telling this to her unborn son. "It makes me feel beautiful. Feel... wanted, loved."


	41. Chapter 41

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"It's ridiculous. It's... _distorted_ and _disgusting_ and..." She sighed, meeting Tim's gaze. "That's _not normal_ , is it? For... for a pregnant woman to _like_ having her belly rubbed. There's something drastically wrong with me, isn't there, Tim?"

He sighed, pressing the photograph down gently before sitting back and turning to his wife. He'd met Sarah for lunch, and then the two had gone to a small boutique that sold things for children; his sister insisted that she get a gift for her nephew, while Tim replied that her filming the birth would be gift enough for them. Ziva had told him about it on the way home from their appointment, that she wanted Sarah to film the birth and that the young woman had agreed. He'd told his sister that as it got closer to their son's birth, he was getting more desperate to grasp those memories that had never seemed to return- the ones of their marriage, their wedding, the days before the accident and the night of Amal's conception. And Sarah had informed him that those memories would return in time, if he just gave them a chance.

"Ziva... you're pregnant. The rubbing probably helps ease the itching you feel, and calms you down. As for your liking it..." He shrugged. "Hell know if I can explain it. That's what's going on in your brain, not mine, and you're isn't damaged."

She raised an eyebrow. "You are not damaged, Timothy. You have amnesia. There are certain things you can't remember due to the accident, but they're coming back." He hmm-ed softly as she reached over and caressed his cheek, her thumb moving over his cheekbone. "You just need to give it time, sweetheart. Don't push it. Your memories will return when they want to." She then kissed his cheek before leaning over to look at the updated page of Amal's book.

 _Thirty-two Weeks!_

 _I have only eight weeks left in Ima's tummy!_

"Soon we won't be recording this anymore. Soon we'll be recording how much he weighs and... his first steps and his first teeth and his first word-" She sighed, reaching down and rubbing her belly. "Soon he'll be in our arms and not my stomach." She bit her lip. "Tim, I... I'm scared."

He turned to her. "About what? You have nothing to be scared of-"

"Of the birth, but... I think more of the labor. I mean, is it going to hurt?" She looked down at her stomach. "I... I know it's going to hurt, but... but what happens during the contractions, and during the dilation and... and the crowning? What happens when he starts moving into my birth canal? Will I feel it? And how big is he? What if I have to have a c-section because I can't push him out, because I'm not big enough? I don't want a c-section, Tim. I want to have our son vaginally, naturally."

"Shh, hush, Ziva. You're working yourself up over nothing."

"It's not _nothing_ , Tim, it's the _birth_ of our _baby_!"

He rested a finger to her lips, before getting up and helping her to her feet. Once she was settled on the mattress, he turned the TV on and moved to the DVR. "I saw these advertised last night, and so I recorded them both this morning. They're...documentaries on what happens in the womb and... how a baby is born. I know it's probably way out of line, recording them," He joined her on the mattress, turning to her. "But I figured," He shrugged. "I don't know, that maybe it would help calm your nerves."

"You... you recorded them? For... for me?" He nodded.

"Anything I can do to help." She smiled softly, quickly covering her face as her hormones got the better of her.

"Oh, Tim..." She reached over, catching his mouth in a soft kiss. " _Toda_." Then, she shifted, moving to settle between his legs. He reached behind him, grabbing one of the pillows and placing it behind her before taking the throw Abby had given them and draping it over them before pressing play. The first documentary went into great detail about what exactly happened during conception and pregnancy, and how the mother's body responded to the stresses of everything from weight gain to frequent urination and labor pain.

But it was the second documentary, that mainly focused on the last two months of pregnancy, then the labor and birth, that caught Ziva's attention. She absentmindedly rubbed her belly, feeling Amal kick hard against her hand. She tilted her head back, looking up at him. "Timothy," He met her gaze. "would you _please_ get control of your son? He's trying to break my ribs this time."

Tim chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her head before reaching down and gently stroking the sensitive skin of her belly. "Since is he my son?"

She turned to him. "Tim, that's _not_ funny." He bit his lip, realizing he'd crossed a line, even though he'd meant it in jest, not in hurt. He knew Ziva's reaction was more due to the day he'd come out of the coma and been informed that he had a wife and son on the way.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wasn't thinking." She met his gaze, seeing the guilt in his eyes, and gently reached up, thumbing his bottom lip.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, it just..." She stopped when he nodded in understanding. Their lips met in a soft kiss, and she nudged her nose against his before settling back down. He returned to rubbing her belly, and Ziva sighed softly, as the kicking began to slow.

"He's completely relaxed now." She glanced up at him. "I think we both know who's going to be up at night rocking him to sleep after he's born." A soft grin tugged at her lips, and Tim rolled his eyes.


	42. Chapter 42

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Three_

"I'm _done_ being pregnant! _I want him out, and I want him out now!"_

Both Tim and Sarah winced as Ziva slammed her mug on the counter. She took a deep breath, leaning against it, struggling to control her temper.

 _It's not Amal's fault, and it's not Tim's or yours. It's your hormones that are causing this, remember? And Tim... he's been wonderful, doing everything he can to fulfill your every wish... just take a deep breath and relax and help him focus on remembering. He's getting better- still not where you know he wants to be, but he is getting better._

"Ziva, sweetheart," She swallowed, feeling Tim rest a hand on her back when he reached her. "Take a deep breath and relax, okay?"

She snorted. "I _would_ take a deep breath, Timothy, if _I could_! But thanks to _your_ son," She turned to face her husband, laying her hands on her stomach. " _This_ is making it hard for me to breathe!" She stopped, seeing the guilt in his eyes and sighed. "I... I'm sorry, _ahuva_. I just... I guess I'm just... frustrated. I'm tired of being pregnant and I want him out of me and in my arms..." She choked on a sob. "I don't mean to snap, I swear, I don't-"

"I know, sweetheart." She curled into his side, resting her head on his chest. He slid his arms around her waist, brushing a kiss to her head. "I'm just as anxious as you are to meet him."

Ziva sniffled, pulling away. "I don't what's wrong with me. For the last two days I've been snapping and crying and-"

"You're pregnant, Ziva. That's all." He replied, reaching up and gently brushing the tears off her cheeks. She pressed a firm kiss to his palm, before joining Sarah at the table.

"Look at it this way, Ziva. You only have seven weeks left, and then Amal will be here." She nodded at Sarah's declaration, accepting the fresh tea Tim set in front of her with a smile. Sarah had stopped by after breakfast that morning, intent on spending some time with her sister-in-law before the baby came. The two women had been chatting happily when the Israeli had gotten up, and promptly had her meltdown. "He hasn't dropped yet, has he?"

Ziva shook her head, rubbing her belly. "No."

"I think most babies tend to drop about now, but labor doesn't start for another few weeks. So he could have dropped."

The Israeli screwed up her mouth, making a face at her sister-in-law. "If he'd dropped, I'd be breathing easier. And need to use the bathroom more." Sarah chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"Well, when he does, then you can just focus on getting ready for him- and focus on each other. You know, date nights and shared baths and late night massages." Ziva blushed. "And if you ever need anything-"

"We will call." She replied, getting up as they saw Sarah out. "You'll be there for the birth right? Taking photos and... and video?" The younger woman grinned.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Ziva." She then kissed them both and left. After shutting the door behind her, Ziva turned to her husband, hands on her hips.

"You know, _Sarit_ 's right."

"About what?"

"About a bath. I could really use one. But only if you join me." He chuckled.

"Let me go start it."

Thirty minutes later, he looked up as Ziva came into the bathroom. She'd already removed the sweats she wore and was pulling the shirt she had on over her head. He shut the water off, checking it, a quick grin flashing across his face. Ziva looked up at him. "What? What is this look?" She asked, wagging her finger in his direction. Tim shook his head.

"Just... admiring the beautiful woman before me." His wife snorted.

"Beautiful? Seriously, Tim? I am big and growing bigger by the minute, I'm puffy, my feet and hands have swelled and I have this... bulge sticking out in front of me. The last thing I am is beautiful."

"You're pregnant, with our son. And that... that is beautiful." Ziva couldn't keep the small smile from tugging at her lips.

Once they'd settled in the bath, Ziva tucked against Tim's chest, she tugged on his hands, resting them on her belly. "He may be head down, but he's still very active." She winced as Amal kicked her, and they watched in silence as her stomach moved. "He is definitely going to be a track star." She hissed softly. "Oh, that hurt." A grunt escaped her throat as she laid her head back against his shoulder. "It's more painful now- when he kicks or punches against me. It hurts."

"It's because the skin is thinning over your stomach."

"So soon... soon we may be able to see his tiny feet and hands." She looked up at him, grinning. He chuckled softly.

"Maybe."

They soon fell into silence; Ziva watched as Tim's long slender fingers gently skimmed over the stretching skin. The baby kicked hard in response to his father's touch; for a good five minutes, he stretched and kicked and morphed his mother's already changing belly, putting on a show for his parents, and responding eagerly when they talked.

At one point, Ziva chuckled dryly. "He is going to be _so_ much fun to push out of my body." Tim rolled his eyes, briefly stopping. "He _really_ doesn't like it when you stop, Tim." The baby kicked hard again, and the agent chuckled, starting up again. Ziva sighed, relaxing at her husband's touch. "Do you like it when Daddy rubs my tummy, Amal? Hmm? Cause then you know that he's still here with us?" She looked up at her husband, her next words meant for him and him alone. "Daddy will always be here. He may not remember us, but he will always be here."


	43. Chapter 43

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 38, DS2010 for reviewing 40, 41 and 42, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 39, 40, 41 and 42.**

Ziva settled back against the pillows of their bed, her hands moving slowly over her belly. She glanced over at her husband, who was propped up on his elbow, watching her, a soft smile on his face. "What is it?" He shook his head. While Tim had pulled on a pair of boxers and pajama bottoms after they'd gotten out of the bath, Ziva wore nothing but a pair of underwear; the sports bra she normally wore to bed had gotten to be too uncomfortable. And with her breasts now leaking and exceedingly tender, the last thing she wanted on was something that would only be painful.

"I noticed you were watching our wedding video again. Did anything come back?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "No. And... I don't know how many times I've watched it, and it always come up with the same result. No memory of it. Just... video that I can watch, but no actual memories of the day you became my wife."

She sighed, understanding how frustrated Tim must be getting at being unable to recall memories of their life together. She turned her attention back to her stomach as Amal kicked hard against her ribs, and after a moment, she sat up. Gently, she rubbed her hands over her belly, occasionally pressing gently to get their son to move if he'd stopped. Although stopping was the last thing he seemed to be doing; the sound of his father's voice caused the baby to quicken his movements, until he was soon pedaling against to top of his mother's stomach. The couple watched in shared silence as their son moved within her, Ziva's hands moving gently to rub the spot where his feet were.

Tim chuckled softly as Amal seemed to scurry away from his mother's touch, and after a moment, Ziva gently pressed on either side of her belly, moving upwards before rubbing in slow circles. She pressed against the skin, hoping to get a reaction from the baby, to no avail. "Come on, _ahuva_ , you're always moving-"

"Here, let me try." Tim sat up, moving to sit beside his wife. Ziva raised an eyebrow, but lowered her hands, humming softly in contentment as her husband's fingers gently moved over her belly-

The baby kicked, hard.

"Oh." She looked at her husband before turning back to her belly. "Oh, I get it. You'll kick for Daddy but you won't kick for me?" She waited, reaching down and brushing her fingers over her belly; they brushed against Tim's, lacing together and squeezing quickly. Tim broke the hold, gently patting her belly, which received another good, hard kick. "Unbelievable." Ziva turned to her husband. "He is definitely your son, Timothy." She shook her head, turning her attention back to the swell before her. "Do you like _Abba_ 's touch, Amal? Is that it? Does _Abba_ touch you differently than I do?"

Another round of pedaling started, and Ziva groaned softly in both annoyance and pain. "Your only doing that to let us know you're still o-"

"It hurts when he does that- that _does not_ mean you have to _keep doing that, Amal McGee!_ " Her husband chuckled softly, before he continued rubbing her stomach. The baby only briefly stopped moving and his mother sighed in annoyance. "I don't mean to snap, but it does hurt. It's because my skin is growing thinner, so his kicks and movements are stronger than they were before. I can feel them better."

"Well he certainly likes to move, that's for sure."

Ziva chuckled softly. "From the moment we conceived him, he hasn't stop moving. Even when he was a tiny little bean of a baby he was active and moving and... Jeanne could never get a good view of him on the sonogram because he moved around so much. Honestly, I'm surprised he allows her to get good shots of him now, he's such an active little boy." She gently patted the top of her belly, feeling him kick in response. "Aren't you, _ahuva_? You're the most active little boy I think I've ever known." A sigh escaped her throat as she gently stroked her thumb over the top of her belly, glancing at her husband. "What are you thinking about, _ahuva_?"

Tim sighed, shaking his head. "Trying to remember..." He screwed up his mouth. "I just... the closer we get to him being here, the... the more desperate I am for those memories. I feel like I'm living in a fog, spending the majority of my time trying to _navigate_ my way out of the confusion that's become my mind. When is it going to end? Or.. worse, what if it never ends? What if I end up living with this for the rest of my life, and Amal grows up and... and he starts asking questions about the accident or about what it was like before we had him and I can't tell him because that chunk of my memory is missing? What if he looks at me differently?"

"Tim-"

"I'm his _father_ , Ziva. I'm supposed to remember my child, I'm supposed to tell him stories of our lives before he came into them and how he changed them, and I won't be able to because I _don't remember_ what it was like before then-"

"Shh." She reached up, taking his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking the apples of his cheeks. "Hush, _ahuva_." He took a deep breath, tears in his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? Your memories will return in time. You need to have patience... and faith. Take it one day at a time, and eventually, everything will fall into place. Okay?"


	44. Chapter 44

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"It's not that I have anything against being pregnant, I just... I want him in my arms."

Sarah chuckled softly, setting her coffee cup aside. She'd stopped by that morning, determined to get Ziva out of the house for a few hours; Tony had stopped by earlier and asked Tim if he wanted to go to lunch with him, and Ziva had eagerly pushed her husband out the door, telling him that a few hours away from the house would do him good.

The two women now sat at a small cafe in downtown Georgetown, catching up. "I think the feeling's mutual. Timmy told me when we went out to lunch that day that he's eager to hold Amal." Ziva nodded, rubbing a hand slowly over her belly.

"So when's your next assignment?" Sarah thought a moment, folding her arms on the table.

"That's... actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Ziva. I..." She sighed. "I'm going to Israel, to film the refugees in the camps along the Gaza strip feeling the war. I was wondering if I could... stay with your family in Tel Aviv."

"You're going to Israel?" Sarah nodded. "Of... of course, _Sarit_! They would _love_ to have you! When are you leaving?"

Sarah bit her lip. "Two days."

"Two days?"

"After today."

"Oh. How... how long are you going-"

"Five weeks. Maybe longer, depending on if I get the shots I want."

Ziva's face fell. "But... in five weeks, I'll-"

"Be thirty-eight weeks. I know."

"So... so you'll miss Amal's birth?"

Sarah sighed. "I'm gonna try not to, Ziva. I'm gonna try to finish as fast as I can-"

"No, Sarah, this is important."

"So is this-"

But Ziva reached out, gently resting a hand on her sister-in-law's arm. "There will be other babies, _Sarit_." The younger woman shook her head.

"But not like this. This is your _first_ , Ziva. This is the baby that makes you two _parents_. And I promised I would be there to film the birth-" She took a deep breath. "I'm gonna tell them no. Get someone else to go. This is too important-"

"Sarah, this is about your career-"

" _No, Ziva!_ " She cried, standing. "This isn't about my career! _Screw my career!_ This is about _my family_!" She took a deep breath, then slipped out of the cafe. Ziva sighed, following. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I... I shouldn't have reacted like I did, I just..."

"You have every right to be upset, Sarah. You're going to be missing a momentous part of your family's development." Sarah turned to her, watching as Ziva absentmindedly stroked her belly; the faraway look in Ziva's dark eyes brought a small smile to her sister's face, and Sarah chuckled. "What?"

The photographer shook her head. "Nothing, you just... you get this really faraway look on your face when you rub your belly. Like you're looking at the ends of the earth and trying to decide what's beyond them." Ziva shrugged, her gaze moving down to the swell that had taken over her petite body.

"Tim says the same thing." She sighed, gently patting her belly before folding her hands on top of the swell. "Especially at night- he'll ask me what I'm thinking about, and when I say that I'm not sure, he'll joke and say that I'm imagining the best techniques that will help me lose the weight I've gained with the baby." She shook her head, laughing softly. "But honestly, there are times when I have nothing in my head- I just... I find myself... relaxing and... and just feeling him. Feeling my son move within my womb, and... and the fact that your brother... that he loves me enough to have given me this beautiful gift..."

She stopped, biting her lip. "You okay?"

Ziva nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "I don't know how I got so lucky, Sarah." The younger woman smiled softly. "What... what designated that I would spend that rest of my life with that beautiful man as my husband? What gave me the right to accept his proposal when he could have had any woman he wanted? Why me? Tim is... beautiful and kind and loving and... and no matter what he thinks or says, he is a beautiful father to Amal. He has truly made up for lost time, Sarah. Even though he doesn't remember conceiving our son, he has made every moment of my pregnancy count from the moment he came out of the coma. Sure, there was some resistance at first, but... but now..."

Sarah cocked her head to the side. "You have Amal to thank for that, Ziva. God knows how my brother might have turned out if his son wasn't growing in your belly. Accidents can change people- especially really bad accidents. And comas and amnesia... they change people, almost as much as accidents do. Some people's entire personalities change with accidents and amnesia, thankfully, Timmy isn't one of those people. He's just gotten to be much more-"

"Blunt?" Ziva suggested, and Sarah nodded.

"Oh good, you noticed it to."

Her sister-in-law chuckled. "Yes, Tim has certainly... stopped beating around the tree when he talks now. He's not as... lengthy and drawn out when he explains things, either, except in computer-speak."

"Bush." Ziva met Sarah's gaze. "The term is 'beat around the bush', not tree. I may not be as fluent in Ziva-speak as Timmy calls it, but I do know the correct sayings. The pregnancy has really got you reverting back to your Ziva-isms."

"Ziva-isms?" Sarah nodded.

"Yes. Idioms you, being Ziva, get wrong." Her sister snorted.

"Now _you_ are speaking in a language that I do not understand." The faraway look returned to her face, and she looked down at her belly, fingers stroking over the mound.

A moment passed, before Sarah glanced down at the camera around her neck. Without a word, she turned it on, positioned it and pressed the button.


	45. Chapter 45

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Four_

Ziva rested a hand on her belly; she'd gotten used to lying on the mattress bed in the living room, watching TV or a movie- it felt so much more comfortable than the sofa. Tim settled beside her, Amal's baby book in his lap; he was flipping through the pages, studying the earlier ones, trying to remember. Eventually, he gave up, flipping back to the current page.

 _Thirty-four Weeks!_

 _I'm facing down now, and the doctor said that it means I'm getting ready to be born!_

Tim chuckled, flipping the page back to the previous week. Directly across from the writing, on the back of the previous page, was a photograph-

It was Ziva, standing on the street, in front of the coffee shop, gaze locked on her belly. She was stroking her tummy, a faraway look on her face, in a world all her own. Behind her, cars and people alike blurred as they hurried about their lives, but for Ziva, time seemed to stand still.

It seemed the photograph was the perfect representation of the last few months of their lives. Between Tim's amnesia and Ziva's pregnancy, the couple hadn't really had a chance to just sit, talk, and reconnect- and they wouldn't, not until Amal was a couple years older at least.

"Sarah took this?" Ziva looked up, her attention from their son's movements diverted as she turned to him, leaning close. A soft nod met him.

"Yeah, she... she took a few. They're on the desk." Without a word, Tim got up, finding them. He returned to the mattress, studying them.

"She really has a way with that camera." Ziva chuckled softly, her gaze going back to her stomach. She bit her lip.

"Hey, Tim?"

He glanced at her. "Hmm?"

"Will... will you still love me... even if I don't lose the weight after he's born?" His head snapped up, and he quickly put the book and pictures aside.

"Ziva... where is this coming from?" She shrugged, patting her stomach gently.

"I just..." She sighed. "I've put a lot of weight on, and... even though I'm small, it... after Amal is born, and even if I don't lose the weight, will you still love me, Tim?"

He moved closer, reaching out to rest a hand against her belly. "Sweetheart, I'm going to love you whether you're a hundred pounds or two hundred, because you're my wife, and the mother of my child. What should it matter, how much you weigh after he's born? You're going to be beautiful either way." She reached up, gently tracing his jawline with a small smile before leaning close and kissing him softly.

When they finally broke the kiss, Tim stretched out, propping himself up on his elbow. He gently stroked her belly, tracing the stretchmarks on her skin with his finger. She giggled, gently pushing his hand away. "Stop, Tim! Why would you want to touch those? They're hideous!"

"They're not hideous, Ziva, they're beautiful."

" _How_ are stretchmarks _beautiful_ , Tim?"

He shrugged. "Think of them as... as a badge of honor. A... a memory of our son that you'll have... even after he grows up." She looked down at her belly, rubbing gently up and down her stomach. The baby kicked, and after a moment, Ziva moved her hands to either side of her belly. Tim watched, silent, as Amal kicked and stretched against his wife's womb, as her hands pressed upwards gently before moving and rubbing gently in, towards her belly button. She then rubbed her hands up and down her belly, letting out a soft sigh as the motion helped to relieve some of the itching. "You're growing more beautiful every day, sweetheart, because you're growing our son."

She rested her hands at the top of her stomach, watching as Tim gently pressed against the skin of her stomach; Amal kicked hard, hitting Ziva's ribs. She grunted, wincing. "I'm telling you, he likes my ribcage-" She stopped, feeling another sharp jab to the bones, followed by another and another. A soft whimper escaped Ziva's throat, and she turned to her husband. "I think he's... practicing kickboxing in there." Tim chuckled, leaning down and gently brushing a kiss to his wife's skin. After he pulled away, Amal reached out, punching hard.

"Do you like to practice with _Ima_ , hmm? Is that what you're doing, Amal? Practicing- even though _Ima_ isn't putting up much of a fight." He chuckled, glancing at his wife, who rested her head against the pillows, reaching down to stroke her fingers through his hair. "Because, you know, _Ima_ is quite the martial arts expert. She'll have to show you some time."

"If I'm ever able to get back into it." She whispered, glancing at her stomach. Tim chuckled, sitting up and kissing her quickly.

"You will, after he's born." He pulled away as the baby kicked hard against his hand, and Ziva laughed.

"Amal doesn't want you to stop rubbing him, sweetheart. He likes feeling your hand against my tummy. I think... I think it makes him feel protected, it... let's him know that you're here, and that you love him."

Without a word, Tim returned to rubbing her belly, and the baby responded with eagerness, kicking and stretching and pedaling as his father rubbed his hand over the stretching skin. With each brush of his fingers over the swell, Amal moved, responding excitedly to his father's touch. The agent chuckled softly, patting his wife's belly, before pulling away. "I love you, sweetheart." He pressed another soft kiss to her belly before getting up. Ziva smiled softly, skimming her fingers lightly over her tummy, pressing gently on the bottom of her belly, where his head was. The baby shifted, turning towards her touch and then back.

A soft chuckle escaped her throat. "You have made our son very happy, Tim. Now maybe he'll settle down for a while. Tim?" She struggled to get up, and once having done so, she made her way into the kitchen. "Tim, what's-"

He stood in the foyer, the door open. And standing in the doorway, was Sarah.


	46. Chapter 46

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Sarah? What.. what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Israel-"

"I asked them to push it back."

"Why?"

The younger McGee turned to her sister. "I told them there was something more important that I needed to document."

Tim furrowed a brow. "What?" The two women turned to him, and after a moment, Sarah replied,

"The birth of my nephew."

Twenty minutes later, the trio soon found themselves at the kitchen table, sharing cups of coffee and tea. "But, Sarah, this project-"

"Can wait." Sarah replied, reaching over and taking her sister's hand. "This is more important." Ziva furrowed a brow. "Ziva, this is your _son_ that's going to be born. I said I would be there filming the birth, and I'm going to be." She then got up, going to her brother and slipping her arms around his neck. "How's your memory, Timmy?"

He sighed, reaching up and covering her hands with his. "About the same." Sarah nodded, squeezing his shoulders gently.

"Give it time, Timmy." She pressed a kiss to his head as Ziva stood, resting her hands on her back. She was exhausted but unable to sleep thanks to her belly, and with their active son, she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower. See if that will relax Amal enough that he'll let me sleep." She kissed both siblings quickly on the lips before heading upstairs.

"So, are you excited, Timmy?"

After she'd started the shower, she quickly undressed and stepped beneath the warm spray- the water rolled down her back and her stomach; she sighed, rubbing her hands over her belly. "Soon, _ahuva_. You will be here soon. Only six more weeks. Are you excited?" The baby kicked, and Ziva couldn't help the smile on her face. Once she finished, she stepped out of the shower, coming in to find Tim was in the bedroom, pulling a button-down on over his tank. "Sarah asked me to tell you goodbye. She's meeting Penny for lunch." Ziva nodded, quickly drying off and getting dressed before pulling her hair back in a braid. They had a doctor's appointment that they had to get to.

She looked up, to find her husband watching her silently, his green eyes drinking in every detail of her. "What is it? Tim?"

He shook his head. "Just... wondering how I managed to get so lucky. I have a... a beautiful wife and a rambunctious little boy that's going to be born soon and..." His eyes soon turned, misting over with guilt. "And sadly I... I don't remember either of them. I mean... I have very vague memories of you, but... but our son..."

"Tim, _ahuva_ , you have to be patient. I know you want to remember everything, but that's not how amnesia works."

He sighed as she made her way to him, reaching up and taking his face in her hands. "I know, I just... I'm frustrated, I guess.. and I know you've heard this all before, and I shouldn't be repeating myself, but... but I just..." A moment passed before he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Ziva joined him, taking his hand.

"You have every right to be frustrated, _ahuva_. You lost... not just three months in a coma, but four years of marriage thanks to that accident. You have no memory of me or the baby we created, let alone our first years of marriage. I understand that it's difficult and frustrating and I know you want to remember everything. But these things _take time_. Patience is a virtue, remember?"

Silence met her, and she watched as he rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I know. I just..." But he stopped, shaking his head. Ziva smiled softly, getting up.

They got to the appointment early, and soon found themselves waiting in the exam room. Ziva sat on the edge of the exam table, rubbing her belly absentmindedly; she glanced over at Tim, who leaned against the nearest wall, hands in his pockets. The two locked eyes just as the door opened and Jeanne slipped inside. "How're you two doing?"

"Doing better." Tim whispered, watching as Jeanne quickly checked his wife's heart and breathing and then had her lie back before pulling on a pair of gloves and push up her shirt.

"Are you having trouble breathing, Ziva?" The Israeli nodded, swallowing. "That's because of the weight of your uterus. Unfortunately, it takes up everything in its path." Ziva giggled softly, and the two parents watched as Jeanne gently felt Ziva's belly. She pressed gently on the bottom, before pressing a little firmer.

"What is it?" Jeanne glanced at Tim before turning back to her work.

"Well, at your appointment a couple weeks ago, I noticed that he'd engaged, and then last week he'd un-engaged."

"And now?" Tim asked, glancing at his wife. Jeanne pressed gently on the bottom of Ziva's belly.

"And now he's engaged."

"Engaged?" Ziva asked, pushing herself onto her elbows. Jeanne nodded, turning to her.

"He's engaged in your pelvis."

"So..." Ziva swallowed, sitting up when Jeanne stepped back. "So does that mean I could go into labor." The doctor slowly removed her gloves.

"Unfortunately, Ziva, first time mothers don't go directly into labor. With subsequent labors, yes, but usually, the baby will drop and engage and then it could be weeks, because the baby is still growing, until you go into labor. Now unless your water breaks and you start having major contractions, yes, you could be in labor, but that's fairly rare in a first-time mother."

Ziva sighed, understanding, though it annoyed her. She wanted her son in her arms. "Oh, okay."

"So, go home, spend some time together, enjoy these last six weeks before the baby comes, okay? When he's ready, he'll come." She nodded, allowing Tim to help her off the exam table. She took a deep breath, putting her hands on her hips. As they moved to leave the exam room, Jeanne chuckled. "Ziva," The mother turned to her. "You were asking about dropping?" She nodded. "Suddenly breathing easier?"

A moment passed before Ziva nodded, realizing that she was having an easier time breathing. "Yeah, I am, actually. Why?" Jeanne smiled softly at her.

"Because you've dropped."


	47. Chapter 47

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"I can't believe it. He's dropped." Ziva turned, studying her reflection in the mirror of their bedroom. Just as Jeanne said, when she looked in the mirror, she realized that yes, her belly was lower than it was before. And from the photos she'd looked at after they got home, the doctor was right; she had been carrying high, so the sudden returned ability to breathe was a welcome change. "Now if I would just start dilating-"

Tim chuckled, making his way towards his wife and sliding his arms around her from behind. "Dr. Beniot said that it would take time, sweetheart. And just because he's dropped doesn't mean he's stopped growing." She turned to meet his gaze. "This is our first, you have to be patient, remember? It's not going to happen all at once." He then kissed her quickly, before taking a seat on the bed and pulling the baby book onto his lap. A moment passed before Ziva joined him, sliding her hand around his bicep and resting her head on his shoulder.

When they got home and hour ago, they'd taken another photo, placing it on the page opposite to the current one; in the photographs, the change was drastic. In all the photographs before the current one, Ziva's belly was high, but in this new one, there was a very noticeable drop to her belly- most noticeably, the slight space between her stomach and her breasts.

 _When Ima and Abba went to visit the doctor today, she poked around Ima's tummy- and then when Ima stood to go, she could suddenly breathe easier! It's because my head is in Ima's pelvis, which means that sometime in the next few weeks I could be born! But because I'm Ima and Abba's first, it might take me longer, no matter how eager Ima is._

"You nervous?" He met her gaze. "About becoming a father?"

Tim chuckled softly, closing the book and setting it aside. "I'm terrified. And... and I know that... that part of it is normal, due to the pregnancy, but I also know that part of it is caused from the accident and the amnesia. And I'm... I'm trying not to let it affect me, I swear, I just..." Ziva shifted, stretching out as she propped herself up against the pillows. He joined her, folding his legs beneath him as he reached out, rubbing her belly.

Despite the fact that he was engaged in his mother's pelvis, Amal immediately began stretching and kicking at the feel of his father's hand on Ziva's belly. She sighed, pressing gently at the top of her belly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's still moving and stretching as he's being born." Tim rolled his eyes. "I thought most babies were supposed to stop moving once they became engaged."

Her husband shrugged. "Every pregnancy is different, just like every baby is."

She nodded. "Well, our little Amal is certainly different. Aren't you, _ahuva_?" She gently stroked the top of her belly, wincing as he kicked. "You really need to stop stopping in the middle of rubbing, Tim. Rubbing my belly my rile our son up, but stopping just makes it worse. It seems like... if you stop, he just tries to get you to keep going."

"Yeah, I noticed that." Tim chuckled, moving closer. He returned to gently rubbing her stomach, and Amal kicked hard against his father's hand as Tim passed over where the boy's feet were. His wife sighed.

"Amal's going to be one of those little boys who keeps us up all hours of the night simply because he wants the contact with us. Tali was like that- I remember _Ima_ and _Abba_ getting up at all hours of the night and just... just holding her. It wasn't necessarily because she was hungry or colicky, she just wanted to be held. And Amal is just going to be like Auntie Tali. Aren't you, _ahuva_? You're just going to want to be held at all hours of the night." The baby kicked hard in response.

"Just as long as I don't have to breastfeed." Ziva laughed, shaking her head.

"I don't think you'll be able to accomplish that, sweetheart, so I'll leave the holding and rocking to you and _I'll_ take care of the breastfeeding."

They settled into silence again, Ziva watched as Tim continued rubbing her belly, pressing gently against the top of her belly, trying to get the boy to move. Tim gently pulled away, getting up. "Hot tea?" She nodded. "Be right back." He kissed her quickly, before slipping out of the room.

Left alone with their son, Ziva turned to stroking the sensitive skin. She took a deep breath, pressing firmly on either side of her belly, causing him to kick in response. She repeated the movement, before gently stroking her hands back and forth over her belly. With each stroke, the baby responded, until the top of her belly was stretching with each kick. She then gently pressed against the top of her stomach, giggling softly as she and Amal seemed to play a game of peek-a-boo.

"I leave you alone for five minutes, and you're playing with our son." She looked up as Tim came back into the room.

 _"Toda, ahuva."_

 _"Al lo davar."_ He kissed her quickly, handing her the cup. She took a sip, before setting it on the nightstand.

"We were just... playing peek-a-boo, I guess." She replied, looking down at her belly. "Weren't we, Amal?" The baby kicked at Ziva's touch, and Tim chuckled, setting his own cup down and moving down to sit by his wife's belly. He reached out, gently rubbing his wife's tummy; instantly, the baby started to kick and stretch, his movements becoming sharper when Tim spoke.

"Were you playing with _Ima_ , hmm? Was she playing peek-a-boo, Amal? Did you like playing with _Ima_? Does she play peek-a-boo well?" The baby started to pedal against his mother's skin, and Tim chuckled. _It doesn't matter whether you remember his conception or not. You won't have time to try and remember, because he's going to keep you on your toes._


	48. Chapter 48

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Five_

She sighed, relaxing back against her husband, allowing the warm water to elevate the pain in her lower back. After coming back from her appointment, Tim had drawn a warm bath, helping Ziva into it and allowing her to relax against him. "So, from what Jeanne said, it doesn't look like I'll be dilating for a while. Especially since this is our first baby, she said it usually takes a few weeks. I think she said I'd probably start dilating sometime around week thirty-eight." Ziva tilted her head up to look at him.

"That's only three weeks away, sweetheart."

"I know, Tim. I just... I want him out of me and in our arms. I want to hold him... I want... I want to see who he looks like... and... and see his personality..."

Tim chuckled, wrapping his arms gently around her and kissing her temple. "So do I, sweetheart. I'm just as eager to meet him as you are."

They settled in silence, fingers laced as they rested against Ziva's burgeoning stomach. "I noticed you were watching the video from Gibbs's barbecue- the one celebrating our one year anniversary. Do you remember it?" He shook his head, silent.

"No. Ziva, I... what happens if I never get those memories back?"

"Tim," She released their hands, shifting to turn and reach up, taking his face in her hands. "I won't care if you ever get those memories back; it won't change who you were before the accident or after. You'll still be my husband, still be the father of my son, and I will still love you, memories or no." He pressed a kiss to each palm, before capturing her mouth in a soft kiss. Ziva deepened the kiss, sliding a hand into his hair and tangling her fingers around the strands.

When they finally broke the kiss, Ziva settled once more against his chest, hands moving up to caress her belly. She giggled softly as Tim leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to her shoulder, his hands moving to her belly. He gently squeezed on either side; the baby kicked and shifted in response, and Ziva laughed softly as her husband repeated it and the baby once more responded. "I really do love it when you rub my belly. And Amal loves it to, because it means Daddy is paying attention to him, huh, Amal. Is Daddy paying attention to you?" The baby kicked against his father's hand. "Daddy pays a lot of attention to you, doesn't he, _ahuva_?" She glanced behind her, seeing the worry in Tim's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just-" But he cut himself off, pressing another soft kiss to his wife's shoulder. She reached up, briefly caressing his jaw before returning her hand to her belly.

"You love it when Daddy rubs my tummy, don't you, _ahuva_? Yes, you do. I know you do. You know how I know? Because whenever _Abba_ rubs my tummy you start kicking me like crazy." She winced slightly. "Just like now." A soft laugh escaped her throat. "I know, Amal, I can feel Daddy too. I can feel when he pushes on my tummy and when he rubs it- and I like it as much as you do, sweetheart. I feel loved when Daddy touches my belly, just like you do." She glanced back at her husband. "And since _Abba_ 's been touching us a lot lately, then that means we're extra loved." Tim raised an eyebrow at his wife's grin, and after a moment, she leaned close, kissing him.

They drank hungrily from each other; Ziva's hands moved down to cover his as he continued rubbing her stomach, their fingers laced and soon they stopped, hands resting on her belly as the kiss deepened. Unused to being ignored by his parents, Amal kicked hard against their hands; however they were too caught up in the kiss to notice. Several more hard, sharp kicks soon did the trick and they broke apart.

"I think he's telling us to get a room." Ziva laughed, knowing her husband was right; she scooted forward, allowing Tim to get out before he helped her. Once she was out of the water, she turned her gaze to her stomach, reaching down and caressing the swell.

"He is already acting like an embarrassed little boy disgusted by his parents' affection displays, aren't you, Amal?" The baby kicked in response, and Tim chuckled as his wife grinned. "Well, I wish we could get a room, _ahuva_ , but unfortunately, you'd have to come with us anyway."

As she followed Tim into the bedroom, she stopped, watching as her husband pulled on a pair of boxers and then a pair of pajama bottoms. He turned back to her, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way towards her. A moment passed before he reached down, tracing his fingers over her belly, a soft look in his eyes. "I... I can live with the amnesia, I... I really can, but... but what I can't live with... what I can't seem to live with is the fact that... that I forgot you." His gaze darted to his wife's. "And... and this beautiful... beautiful little boy that's been growing inside you for the last... for the last nearly eight months... I could... I could do with forgetting everything else- my job, the team, my name, but... but not you. Not either of you. And yet... it's the two of you that I ended up losing. One I've loved for four years and the other... the other I never knew existed until I woke up from that coma..."

Gently, Ziva reached up, cradling his cheek in her hand. "Oh, Tim-"

He met her gaze, tears in his beautiful green eyes. "Why you? Why did it have to be you I forgot? Why Amal? Why couldn't it have been anything and everything _but_ you?"

"I don't know, _ahuva_."

"And... what if I never get you back?"

"Shh. Don't think that way, Tim. You will never lose us." She stroked his cheek. "We are not leaving you, Tim. We have never left you, neither Amal or I. And we never will. I promise."


	49. Chapter 49

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Her hands moved over the mound in front of her, caressing and rubbing her belly. She glanced at her husband, who lay beside her in the bed, propped up on his elbow, watching as her fingers moved over her skin. Forgoing her bra for the moment- she just wasn't feeling up to putting on any form of clothes, save her underwear- Ziva lay completely propped up against the pillows, her belly out in front of her. A soft groan escaped her throat as the baby kicked hard, and she took a deep breath. "I'm not going to discipline him... even though those _are_ my ribs..."

Tim chuckled, reaching out and rubbing a hand back and forth over her stomach. "You know, when I was a kid, Sarah would make me play house with her. But this... this wasn't like normal house."

"How is it not like normal house?"

He sighed. "Because my darling little sister would take a soccer ball or basketball and slip it under her shirt and pretend she was pregnant."

Ziva burst out laughing. "You're kidding!" Tim shook his head.

"I wish I was, sweetheart. Mom caught her one afternoon- managed to have the video camera rolling. She also got a couple of photos of her."

"I wish I could see them- Tim? Where are you going? _Ahuva_?" But he was up and out of the room, heading downstairs. Ziva settled back against the pillows, stroking her fingers against her belly. He returned minutes later with a couple of photographs- both of Sarah, at about six-years-old, in a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt, her hair in pigtails. But what had Ziva laughing was the basketball-sized lump underneath her shirt. "Oh my God! You weren't kidding-"

Tim shook his head. "What made it even worse was when friends came over and she came downstairs with that under her shirt, insisting we play house. It was so embarrassing."

"No... it's _cute!_ So... so clearly _Sarit_ 's always wanted children." Her husband nodded. "So... why hasn't she yet?"

"I don't know. Whenever I've asked, she's always said that she can't find the right guy. I think that my sister wants the fairy tale romance-"

"Sort of like what we have."

"Yeah. And... the problem is... she's holding out for something that doesn't exist. And if she keeps it up, then she's gonna miss her chance. And that's the last thing I want for Sarah." Ziva rested a hand on her belly, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"You are a wonderful big brother, Tim." He caught her hand, kissing her palm gently. "And you are also a wonderful husband," She glanced down at her stomach. "and a wonderful father." Their lips met in a soft kiss, before she pulled away, turning her gaze back to her belly. "And I am not just saying that because I am your wife. I'm saying it because I've watched you these last few months and... yes, we've had our problems, and _yes_ , it's been difficult with the amnesia, but you've always been there. You've taken care of everything I asked, even when you weren't sure of what we were to you. And, also because I've watched you around Amal. You may not remember conceiving him, but part of you recognizes him as your son, and all of you loves him. And he loves you."

She then reached out, taking his wrist and resting his hand on her stomach. The baby kicked, as if recognizing the change, and Tim chuckled softly. "I-" But he stopped, biting his lip. Ziva smiled softly.

"Do you recognize Daddy, Amal?" The baby kicked hard in response. "Yeah, that's Daddy." A moment passed before Tim scooted closer, pulling Ziva until she was nestled between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He then returned to rubbing and caressing her belly, responding to each kick. The feel of his hands seemed to wind Amal up, and the baby spent several minutes pedaling against his mother's stomach, to Ziva's annoyance. When he finally stopped, Ziva reached down, gently patting the top of her belly. "Are you playing with Daddy, _ahuva_?" He kicked. "I know, baby boy. I can feel Daddy playing with you." There was another kick in response, followed by several sharp kicks against Tim's hands. Ziva winced as Tim chuckled softly.

"Easy, sweetheart. _Ima_ 's skin is getting really thin and your kicks are getting sharper. They hurt her." Amal kicked hard against his father's hand in response, and he rolled his eyes. "Clearly, he doesn't agree."

Ziva giggled, shaking her head. "Nope. But that's okay. Pretty soon he won't be able to kick anymore, so I'll let it slide. Because soon you won't be in my tummy anymore, _ahuva_. Soon you're gonna be out in the world and in our arms, and neither _Abba_ nor I can wait to meet you."

Tim chuckled softly, surprised at how Ziva seemed to revert to mother-speak; the same type he remembered hearing his mother say when she was pregnant with Sarah. But what surprised him most, was how much it seemed to fit his wife. Ziva still possessed much of the tomboy attitude she'd had when she joined the team- though she'd obviously grown up in the last few years, that aspect of her still shone through. And it seemed, to Tim at least, that the pregnancy had just brought that attitude to the forefront.

 _Not that you mind- you love it when Ziva gets playful. It's one of the things that attracted you too her in the first place. The fact that the baby has brought it back is just an added bonus. Although, between your son and your wife, how in God's name you're going to get any peace around here is anybody's guess._


	50. Chapter 50

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _"I can't believe he showed you those!"_

Ziva chuckled as Sarah snatched the photos away from her. The younger woman had stopped by the check up and see if they needed anything. She'd brought along hot chocolate- even though it was summer in D.C.- and gingersnaps; something Ziva had been craving for weeks. Tim was visiting Gibbs; the young agent had turned to the Team Leader for more than just advice- for full, all-out guidance in regards to dealing with the amnesia, seeing as Gibbs himself had once been in the same boat.

The two women were stretched out on the little makeshift bed in the living room watching the video of Ziva and Tim's wedding. "I can't believe he doesn't remember that day. When I mention it to him, he... he gets this... blank look on his face, like he's never heard of such a thing. A couple of times... Timmy's said that... that May sixteenth is... just another day, that it doesn't mean anything. If it were me, I'd beat him to a pulp. Honestly, Ziva, I don't see how you put up with it."

The young mother shrugged. "He's trying, Sarit, he really is. And his memory is getting better. He's able to recall trips to Israel to visit my parents and... afternoons up at Penny's... not specfic dates, but it's something at least."

"Still no memory of Amal?" Ziva shook her head.

"Other than the last few months, no. He still doesn't remember the night we conceived him or the day we found out. But I really don't think Amal cares. He is just happy that Daddy knows him." Ziva turned her gaze to her stomach. She reached down, lifting her shirt, revealing the distended skin. "Don't you, _ahuva_? You're just happy that Daddy knows who you are and loves you." She gently ran a hand over her belly, before folding it over the other one beneath her breast. Sarah watched in silence as Ziva began to absentmindedly stroke the skin of her belly; she kept one hand at the top, near her breasts, while her other hand pressed gently on the side of her stomach.

The baby kicked out in response to his mother's pressing, and after a moment, Ziva did it again, this time moving her hands up and over her belly in slow circles. She then rubbed firmly against the top of her belly, before moving her hand- Amal began to pedal against his mother's skin and Ziva sighed, rubbing her hands over her tummy.

"I can't... I can't have children."

The Israeli turned to her sister-in-law, brow furrowing. She grabbed the remote, stopping the video and turning it off before sitting up. "What?" Sarah swallowed firmly, tears coming to her eyes. "I can't have kids."

"What? What do you mean-" The photographer took a deep breath, before getting up and going to her camera bag; she rummaged around for a few minutes, finally pulling something out. Once she returned, she opened an envelope.

"Re... remember when I got back, not long after Timmy got out of his coma and came home?" Ziva nodded.

"Well, I wasn't gone just because of the assignment. That was a big part of it, yes, but... but I needed... I needed time away." She slowly opened the envelope, and Ziva watched as she removed a tiny pair of pink booties an a matching cap.

"Oh, Sarah-"

"I... I had an affair with... with one my coworkers that was also on assignment in Venice and... and I got pregnant." She sniffled. "We... we didn't just film in Venice, we... we went out to the smaller villages around Italy and took shots, met the locals. We also went to the island of Sardinia and filmed. There's this... small village in the far south of Sardinia, right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea... it's beautiful... like something out of the eighteen-hundreds." She stopped. "By the time we got there, I was... twenty-four weeks pregnant and... and during shoot, I... I started bleeding. They rushed me to the local doctor, but there was nothing they could do."

She then removed a small rosary, glass cross and red beads sparking in the light. "They took me to... to Cagliari, further up the coast... there's a hospital there... fairly advanced for such a coastal town and... I gave birth. But I nearly bled out when the placenta tore from the uterine wall and they... they did a hysterectomy a couple days after she was born." She set the rosary down, before digging back into the envelope and pulling out several photographs. "Jason- my partner-" Ziva nodded, understanding what she didn't say. "I asked him to... to photograph the birth."

Ziva took the pictures; there were several, all of Sarah in various stages of labor and delivery- and one particular shot taken as she was pushing. In it, the doctor was seated on a stool between Sarah's legs, and though Sarah could be seen sitting up and pushing in the background, it was evident that the camera was focused on the infant coming out of her. "But... what about your career? If they found out-"

Sarah shook her head. "They already found out; they didn't do anything. Jason and I are the highest paid photojournalists at Nat Geo. They knew if they lost us-" She stopped, reaching back into the envelope and pulling out a couple more photographs- one of her and a man who was obviously Jason, holding a small bundle in their arms. The other two were simply of Sarah, cradling her child; a small smile played on her face in one, and in the other, there was nothing but heartbreak as she kissed the baby's head. "I... I had a little girl."

"Oh, Sarah, sweetie-"

The woman took a deep, shaky breath. "She was a pound and five ounces, twelve inches long... she didn't make it. She lived an hour and... and then died in my arms..."

"What was her name?"

It was then that Sarah unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it out of the way and turning to show Ziva the tattoo on her chest, just above her left breast. A tiny little footprint, with the name and dates in beautiful script. "Jason and I... we'd met a couple years ago on an assignment in India, that's when our affair started. We named her Shanti. It's Indian, for 'peace.'" She choked on a sob. " _Shanti... Lilah... O'Hara..._ "

As she broke down, Ziva pulled the younger woman into her arms, stroking her back and letting her cry.


	51. Chapter 51

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 46, 50, DS2010 for reviewing 44, 46, 47, 48, 49 and 50, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49 and 50.**

 _Week Thirty-Six_

"Your cervix is starting to dilate and efface, but that will take awhile- first time moms usually don't dilate very quickly, however I did notice that you're a centimeter dilated, so. I also noticed that your joints are loosening, because you've started waddling."

"I was trying to avoid it-"

Jeanne shook her head. "Not possible by now. Your joints have loosened so they'll be ready for birth. Sorry, Ziva. And you've lost bits of your mucus plug, but not much. You still have four weeks left, however, it's not uncommon for first time moms to go overdue by a week or so But we'll watch it." Ziva nodded. "Oh, and you said something about thinking of going to the birth center I work at also?"

"We checked it out a couple weeks ago." Tim said, helping Ziva sit up. Jeanne nodded.

"And we want to have the baby there."

The doctor raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

Ziva nodded. "Yeah, we... we like the atmosphere and everyone was really nice."

"My staff is wonderful. They all have at least fifteen years experience delivering babies, which is good. And we use a range of ways to help mothers cope during labor and birth, without the use of drugs-"

"Which is what we both liked about it. Hospitals are so-"

"Primitive, and they often push birthing mothers into things that aren't good for them or the baby, all so they can make more money." Jeanne finished; clearly she'd said this before. "Labor and childbirth is- as I've always told my staff- about two things: the mother and the baby. They are and always should be the focus during labor and delivery, not the money. And we won't make you do something you don't want to do; if you aren't comfortable with something, we won't do it. It's your choice, because it's about you and the baby."

As Jeanne walked them out, she added, "Oh, and you probably won't feel as much movement from now on, since the uterus is getting tighter due to the baby's growing." The couple shared a glance.

"Clearly, Jeanne, you don't know our little Amal." Tim replied, as they left after making an appointment for the next week.

Once in the car, Ziva turned her attention to her son. "Did you hear that, _ahuva_? I've started dilating, which means you'll be here soon. Isn't that exciting?" Despite the fact that space was limited the baby kicked, and Tim chuckled.

When they got home, Ziva made a beeline upstairs; after emptying her bladder- again- she quickly undressed, studying herself in the bedroom mirror. Her belly was nice and round; she had quickly, in the course of a few months, become all soft curves and dulled edges. She stroked the skin of her belly, pushing gently as she moved her hands up and down.

Amal kicked hard against her hands, and Ziva chuckled softly. "I know, _ahuva_. Jeanne said that you would probably slow down in your movements, but she doesn't know you. Not like Daddy and I do." The baby kicked again, and Ziva shook her head. "No, sweetheart, Daddy's downstairs right now." Another hard kick. "I know, _ahuva_ , I mentioned Daddy, and Daddy's not here-" She stopped, feeling strong arms go around her from behind. His hands slid over her middle, and she then felt a firm kiss on her throat.

"Amal wants to play, hmm?"

She turned to him. "What are you doing up here?" He shrugged.

"I fixed tea, figured you'd want some."

She whispered a soft thank you before settling down on the bed; Tim joined her, stretching out and reaching over to rub her belly. A moment passed, as Ziva watched her husband, before she spoke up. "Sarah can't have children."

He looked up at her, his hand stilling against her stomach. Amal kicked firmly, trying to get his father to continue, but Tim sat up, moving closer to him. "Wait, what?"

 _Great, now you've done it, Ziva. That wasn't your secret to share, it was Sarah's! What the hell were you thinking?_

She quickly glanced at her husband; there was something in his gaze that she couldn't read, something that screamed volumes to her that she'd just opened up the cellar door and found herself looking into the eye of the storm-

"What do you mean my sister can't have children?"

 _Don't say anything, don't say anything, don't say anything!_

"She... she had an affair with a fellow photojournalist that she works with... when they were in Italy and she... she got pregnant."

Tim's eyes widened in shock. "Wait a minute... _what_?"

Ziva bit her lip. "She got pregnant and... and she had the baby at... at twenty-four weeks..." _What are you doing? What the hell is wrong with you? Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!_ "And... the baby was a pound and five ounces... she died an hour after she was born... the... the placenta, it... it tore away and she bled out... they did a hysterectomy... you have a niece, Tim... Sh... Shanti... it means peace..."

"Wait, so I... I have a niece..."

She nodded, watching as her husband stood. "Tim, where are you going? Tim!" It took her a moment before she followed, reaching the foyer just as he grabbed his keys and pulled on his light jacket. "Timothy!" She grabbed his arm, causing him to turn back. "Where are you going?" _Though I think I know, because it's my fault in the first place._

He met her gaze. "I need to talk to my sister." Then, without another word, he left, shutting the door behind him. Ziva sighed, resting her hands on her stomach. She'd really put her foot in it this time.

 _Maybe Sarit will let me have my son before she kills me._


	52. Chapter 52

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Timmy, what.. what are you doing-" She stopped, however, when she saw the look in his eyes. "Oh, God. Tell your wife that after that kid is out of her, I'm gonna _kill_ her."

Her brother sighed. "Why didn't you say anything, Sarah?"

She took a deep breath, stepping back and allowing her brother to enter the room. She led him into the kitchen, and quickly poured two cups of coffee, setting them at the kitchen table before taking a seat. Tim joined her, waiting patiently. A moment passed, before she wrapped her hands around the mug and released a breath. "Jason and I- he's my partner... we met in India a couple years ago on an assignment for Nat Geo and... started an affair. And we... we're living together... and yes, we had a little girl."

On shaky legs, Sarah got up, going into the living room. She came back to the kitchen with a small wooden box, setting it on the table and opening it up. Tim watched as his sister removed several things, including the envelope she'd shown Ziva, and laid them out on the table before him. He reached for one of the photographs- an image of Sarah holding a tiny baby in a pink blanket.

"She only weighed a pound and five ounces when she was born... I'd started to hemorrhage during the birth and..." She stopped, reaching out and pulling the birth certificate towards her. "We were able to baptize her before she died... so Jason and I... we named her Shanti... it's Indian for peace. Because that's where we met. We'd known of each other, but our assignments never allowed us to cross paths until India, so we... we named her in honor of the country that brought us together."

"Why didn't you say anything, Sarah? Ziva and I could have helped you-"

"You'd been in that accident and had slipped into the coma... and Jason and I were still in Italy... I was on bed rest after the surgery for months... and when I heard, I wanted to come back, I did, but... but I couldn't."

He set the photograph down, turning his gaze to the rosary. "The chaplain at the church in Cagliari gave it to me. Told me to use it whenever I get stressed, and remember that my daughter's with God now and is in no pain... and I've tried, but..."

She took a deep breath, meeting her brother's gaze. _She's your baby sister, and you've been so focused on your own life that you haven't even checked on her or worried about her... she's your baby sister... she's your responsibility... it's your job to protect her..._

"I... I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so, so sorry." His little sister reached over, taking his hand and squeezing gently.

"There was nothing you could do, Timmy. Nothing anyone could do."

Something hit him, something off, and he met her gaze. "But... Sarah... you... you just lost your daughter..." She nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "So... so why are you... why are you agreeing to film Amal's birth?" He moved closer. "Sarah, by every right, you can tell Ziva and I no, that you don't want to. You have that right not to film it for us. You... you shouldn't be filming it for us... all this is doing is... causing you pain."

"I know, Timmy."

"Then why are you agreeing to help us?"

The younger woman took a deep breath, turning back to the photographs taken during her labor and delivery, the only images of her baby girl. She studied the photographs briefly, picking up one of the ones of her holding her daughter. She studied the image, realizing that when her child had been born, her family had been clear in America, her brother building a life with the woman he loved- and then, in an instant, some idiot driver had taken that very life away from him, had thrown him into a coma and wiped his memory clean of all that truly mattered- his wife, his marriage, his son. And though his memory was slowly returning, though memories of his life with Ziva were carefully digging themselves out of the ashes that was the amnesia, it was a slow process; of course, there was that realization that those memories may never return and that he'd be left with that loss for the rest of his life.

If it had been Sarah in that situation, if had been Sarah in that accident, the last thing she would want would be to lose that day, those memories, that amazing experience of giving birth to her daughter, no matter the outcome. Those memories were what she clung to, were what kept her going- that she _had_ a daughter, that she'd held her and kissed her and given her a name and loved her... and the thought of never realizing, never knowing that-

It tore at her heart, for that was what her brother was going through. The loss of his family, due to something he had no control over. And though he was starting to regain some of it back...

Two sets of green eyes met, and after a moment, Sarah replied, "I want to. I may have lost my daughter, but... but I didn't have you or Ziva with me when she was born..."

"Sarah, if we could have-"

She reached up, caressing his cheek. "I know, Timmy. And I don't fault you for it. But that's why I'm doing this. Because I am not going to miss the birth of my nephew. I'm not going to let Ziva go through what I went through- she's going to have her family there, even if it's only just you and I. And I made a promise to you both, at your wedding, that if you ever had children, I would be there to film their births. And I'm going to stick to it, because that's what McGees do. Besides, the birth of a child is a happy day. Even if the child doesn't survive, it's still a happy day."

"But this will just bring up memories for you-"

"I know. And they're going to hurt; I don't deny that they will. But what's the point of painful memories if you don't balance them out with happy ones? And the day my nephew comes into the world is going to be joyous." She got up, taking a seat on his lap. "When Amal is born, I know that Shanti's going to be there to meet him; because before I got back, I told her all about him. She's going to be Amal's guardian angel, I know she is."


	53. Chapter 53

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Ziva looked up as Tim slipped into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. She came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, in the process of fixing dinner. "How did everything go with _Sarit_?" He removed his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door.

"Um... Good."

"So we're okay?" He nodded.

"Yeah, we're okay. Oh, and she wanted me to tell you something, but I can't remember it at the moment." His wife nodded, and returned to the kitchen. Tim followed, pulling out the Brita pitcher and pouring a glass of water. Setting his glass down, he moved towards her, sliding an arm around her waist. "Mmm... something smells good. What are you making?" Ziva giggled as he pressed a series of kisses to her neck.

"Chicken _albondigas_ and _Ptitim._ I hope that's okay. It's pretty much just-"

"Chicken meatballs and Israeli couscous. I know." She smiled, popping a slice of black olive into her mouth as he slid his hands back and forth over her belly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Mmm. I love your cooking. I think Amal does too." She laughed as the baby kicked hard, and then stopped, turning to her husband as what he said registered with her.

"You remember my cooking?"

A moment passed before he nodded. "Yeah, some of it."

"Oh, Tim-" She kissed him softly, shifting to face him. Her arms slid around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. It was only when Amal began pedaling against his father's hand that they broke the kiss, turning their gazes to her stomach. "Sorry, _ahuva_ , but we won't be able to get a room without you for a while. Not for the next few weeks, at least." The baby kicked, seemingly in annoyance, and Ziva laughed. "He is one stubborn little boy."

"Can you imagine how much grief he'll give us when he becomes a teenager?" Tim winced at his own words, and Ziva laughed, meeting his gaze.

"Maybe so, but admit it, Timothy. You won't change a thing." He thought a moment.

"Actually, you're right, I won't."

After dinner, Tim and Ziva headed upstairs, where he drew another warm bath, helping her into it. As they settled down within the water, Ziva reached up, brushing her fingers against her husband's jawline. She sighed softly, letting the water and the feel of her husband's arms around her relax her. His hands gently moved up and down her stomach, tracing patterns on her stretching skin, which the baby took to be play. Even when Amal kicked her hard in the ribs, Ziva just winced but kept quiet, savoring what were the last four weeks of her pregnancy.

She sighed. "I bought a book a couple weeks ago and I've just gotten around to reading it."

"What's it about?" She laid her head back against his shoulder as he continued stroking her belly, enjoying the feel of his hands against her skin, of the relief the water brought to the itching, and feel of her husband's arms around her.

"Orgasmic birth." Tim pulled away, looking down at her, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry?" She sat up, shifting slightly to face him. He pressed gently at the bottom of her stomach, and Amal shifted towards his father's hand before turning back. "Ah... Orgasmic... _birth_?" She nodded.

"Yes."

"What the hell is _orgasmic birth_?"

His wife rolled her eyes, settling back against him, her fingers moving to rub slow circles at the top of her belly. "Just what the name is. It's... it's entering a natural state of ecstasy, of... pleasure, brought on by the labor and birthing process. It puts the focus on both the mother and baby during the birthing process, and that intimate connection between a mother and child that's formed during both the pregnancy and the birth."

Tim nodded. "And this is... what you... _want_ to have?"

"Well, I hope my birth is orgasmic."

"Why?" Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Sweetheart, I love you, but you're male, and frankly, you wouldn't understand."

"Look, if you want an orgasmic birth, that's fine, just... just be careful." She turned to him.

"Tim, _ahuva_ , there's nothing dangerous about orgasmic birth. It's just... just reaching a higher level of understanding between a woman and her body. That's all it is. Just a higher level of understanding." She turned her gaze back to her belly, stroking it gently. "It's supposed to be very sensual, an orgasmic birth. For the woman and the baby. There is... minimal risk of something going wrong because oxycotin is released during the birth, which relaxes the muscles of the uterus and the cervix- and since I'm going to be giving birth at Jeanne's birth center, there's a lower risk that I'll be induced and given an epidural, like I would be in a hospital. My risk of having a c-section goes down and... the use of my body, being allowed to use my body and follow its commands is higher. In the hospital, I'd have to listen to the doctor and all they'd do would be pump me full of drugs, possibly slice me open- I don't want that. I wouldn't be able to give birth the way I want to in the hospital."

Her husband sighed. "It's up to you, Ziva. It's your body that's gonna be going through labor. I'll be there supporting you any way I can."

She looked up at him. _"Toda."_

 _"Al lo davar."_ The kiss was soft, tender, but quickly broken as Amal kicked firmly.

By the time they got out of the bath, Ziva was absolutely relaxed as she pulled on a bra and pair of underwear and settled back against the pillows. "Hey, Tim?"

He stretched out beside her, rubbing her belly. "Hmm?"

"Did Sarah tell you about Jason?"

He stopped, and Amal kicked, trying to get his father to keep going. "Yeah. They're living together, why?"

She shrugged. "I was just curious."

"Oh, now I remember what Sarah wanted me to tell you." She turned to him.

"What?"

He bit his lip. "Wanted me to inform you that after Amal's born, she's gonna kill you."


	54. Chapter 54

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Seven_

"Well, you've lost more of your mucus plug, and you're about two centimeters dilated." Jeanne helped Ziva sit up. "Your little one should stop moving in the next couple weeks or so as he prepares for birth." The couple shared a glance.

"In all respect, Jeanne, you really don't know Amal. There's no such thing as stopping where he's concerned." The doctor chuckled, removing her gloves.

"Yes, I remember the time I had getting a good shot of him on the ultrasound at sixteen weeks." She walked the couple out, booking their next appointment for the following week. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to stop by the birth center or give me a call. I'll see you next week."

As they climbed into the car, Ziva turned to her husband. "Hey, Tim? Can we stop by the birth center really quick?"

The birth center Jeanne ran- Bundle of Joy Women's Health and Birth Center- wasn't far from where they lived. Though Jeanne was an obstetrician and a neurosurgeon, she also had a degree in midwifery; she'd started the birth center a year or two after she started at the hospital. In a small three story brownstone, it had a nice, homey atmosphere, with multiple rooms, a good-sized lobby with a fireplace, and even a small kitchen. Jeanne made sure her staff had at least ten years experience, and were all thoroughly background checked.

"Hey, Ziva, Tim. It's not time is it?" Ziva shook her head as Emily Montague, the receptionist, got up and slipped out from behind her desk, giving each of them a hug. "So how's Amal doing? He getting ready?"

"Oh yeah."

"And you two?"

The couple shared a glance. "We're getting there. Um... actually, Emily, we were wondering... we just came from our appointment with Jeanne, and she said something about stopping by and maybe looking at reserving one of the rooms for when the time comes?"

"Oh, not a problem. Any particular one you had in mind?" Ziva shook her head. "Just wanted to look around?" She nodded. "Well, go right ahead, you know where they are. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to come get me."

They made their way upstairs, looking through the empty rooms. "Ziva, honey, I understand wanting to visit the center, since you have three weeks left, but the need to reserve a room? Seriously? I don't think Amal will matter what room he's born in-"

"It matters to me, Tim." She replied, peeking into a room at the very end of the hall on the second floor.

"Okay, _why_?"

She turned back to him. "Because he's our son, and I want to be as comfortable as possible when he comes into the world."

"For that matter, he could be born at home-" She stepped into the room, and he sighed, following. He leaned against the door frame, watching as he wife wandered about the room- there was a queen-sized bed, several medicine balls, a rocking chair, TV, sofa, and in the corner, both a shower and a Jacuzzi tub for water births. Ziva ran a hand over the rocking chair.

"You're not a woman. You don't understand." She muttered, turning to the bed. He sighed.

"Then _help_ me understand, sweetheart." A moment passed, before she turned to him.

"This is it."

"What's it?" Tim asked, his temper wearing thin.

"This is the room I'm going to give birth in." She replied, resting her hands on her stomach and gently rubbing in slow circles.

"Ziva-" But before he could finish, she'd walked past him, heading back downstairs. He caught up to her just as she reached the reception desk.

"... the room on the right at the back of the second floor hallway, can I reserve that room?"

"Sure, think Ziva. You know, surprisingly, no one uses that room. Most of the mothers don't want to be that far away from the first floor."

"Why?"

"A lot of them say it's because it's so private, being at the back of the second floor."

Tim watched his wife nod. "Well, I want my privacy. I want as much privacy as I can get."

"You could easily get it at home." Tim muttered, and Ziva reached back, stamping hard on his foot. He hissed in pain.

Emily chuckled. "Fathers never understand." She quickly brought up something on the computer. "It's reserved for you. So when you start going into labor-"

"Thanks. Um... can I come as soon as labor starts or do I have to stay home for the first half?"

The woman shrugged. "You can come in whenever you want. At the very beginning of labor, during the second stage. Whenever you feel like it." Ziva relaxed.

"Oh, um, and my sister-in-law agreed to videotape the birth for us. Is that allowed?"

"It certainly is. We encourage videotaping and photography during labor and birth here. We aren't like hospitals."

"I know. That's why I like it here. Thanks, Emily."

The drive home was quiet. As the door shut behind them, Tim glanced at his wife. "What's wrong, _ahuva_?" He bit his lip.

"Why don't you call Sarah and ask her to come over for a while."

Ziva furrowed a brow as she peeled her light jacket off. "Okay... why?" She stepped closer. "Tim, is something wrong?" Her hands slid up his chest, to caress his neck. "Sweetheart, talk to me. Please." He studied her, and then pulled her close, his mouth finding hers.

"I love you, Ziva."

"Okay, Tim, you're starting to scare me. What's going on?" But instead of replying, he just leaned down, gently caressing her belly.

"I love you, too, baby boy." He pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, and straightened. She grabbed his wrist as he turned to the door.

"Tim, where are you _going_?" He met her gaze.

"There's someone I need to talk to. I won't be gone long."


	55. Chapter 55

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"What do you think bothers you the most about the amnesia, Tim? The fact that you can't remember or the fact that it took _specific_ memories away?"

Tim sighed, resting his elbows on the table. He'd called Dr. Cranston, asking if she had an opening in her appointment book. Of course the doctor had told him yes, and he'd asked to meet at a small cafe instead of her office. He hated therapy offices- having been to enough of them as a child, simply because his father had deemed him 'sick' and 'un-masculine' for not wanting to join the Navy, and so that warranted several sessions with various therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists- and preferred to not be in an office, sitting on a sofa, talking about his feelings.

They now sat at a table, talking softly over coffee. The doctor waited, giving him time to gather his thoughts. When they'd first met, she'd thought he was familiar, and then, when he'd introduced himself, she'd realized that he had been Kate's colleague. And Tim had realized that the Rachel Cranston he was talking to was Kate's older sister- of course the resemblance was one of the main factors that had tipped him off.

"I... I guess both. It's the fact that I can't remember... I mean, what if I never remember? And those memories... clearly those memories are exceedingly important to me... but why can't I remember them? The memories of my wedding, of the first four years of our marriage... our son and the accident... what gave the amnesia the right to take those specific memories away from me? Why?"

Rachel sighed, folding her hands on the table. "It could be, that when the accident occurred, your brain decided that the way to protect you from the trauma, was to take those memories away." At Tim's confusion, she continued. "See, memories are constantly changing. If the memory is too traumatic, then the brain will block that memory out so as to protect the person from re-experiencing the trauma."

"But the memories of... the ones of my wedding, of my life with Ziva... those aren't traumatic, Dr. Cranston! So why are those gone?"

She sighed. "It could be, that because the accident occurred the day you found out about Ziva's pregnancy, that your brain associated Ziva- and, to a lesser extent, the baby- with the trauma, and therefore decided to block those memories as well. There is no limit to what the brain will do to protect the person." The young agent sighed, reaching up and rubbing his forehead. "You said your wife is pregnant, Tim?" He nodded. "How many weeks?"

"Thirty-seven."

"So three weeks left. This your first?"

"Yeah. Our son."

"What's his name, or have you picked it yet?"

"Amal." Rachel smiled softly.

"Amal. That's... Arabic for 'hope' if I remember correctly." Tim nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Ziva... she's ready for him come. But Dr. Beniot told us that because Amal is our first, it could be weeks before he's born."

"Has she started dilating yet?"

"Yeah. She's two centimeters today."

"So she's still got awhile to go."

Tim chuckled softly. "Yeah, she does."

"You know, when I had my first, I had to be induced."

Tim perked up slightly. "You have kids?" Rachel nodded, pulling out her phone. She scrolled quickly through something before holding it out.

"Fraternal twins and then another little girl." Tim took the phone, a photograph of two eight-year-olds and a four-year-old smiled up at him. "Robert and Lauren are the twins, and then Caitlin is their little sister. I was induced at thirty-five weeks and had a c-section, when I wanted a vaginal birth." She chuckled. "I had a vaginal birth with Kate."

"Kate? For your sister?" The doctor nodded.

"She was born a couple years after Katie died... I figured the best way to honor her memory was to... name her niece after her."

Tim grinned softly. "Kate would have loved that."

A moment passed in silence, before she nodded. "You know, Katie always spoke very highly of you." He blushed, his green eyes darting down to his wedding ring.

"She did?"

"She did. Said she'd... never seen an agent with more drive and will than you, and... that you'd go places at NCIS. That... that would turn into a damn fine agent some day. She even thought that you'd make a fine director or team leader also, if you just gave it time. Agent DiNozzo on the other hand-"

Tim chuckled softly. "Kate always did have a low opinion of Tony. But I think that's more because he spent the majority of his time teasing her."

Rachel laughed softly. "Kate always did complain that Agent DiNozzo tortured her. You know, I think if they'd had the time, they would have made a wonderful couple." Tim wrinkled his nose, thinking.

"Yeah, you're right. Kate's the only one that could really keep Tony in line. You know, besides Gibbs."

They sat in silence for several minutes before Rachel asked, "How are your feelings about the birth? Are you nervous? Excited?"

"Terrified?" He offered, and she smiled. "I... I mean, I know that I have every right to be because it's my son and my wife going through the process, but... but what exactly am I going to do? I mean, what _can_ I do to help? And... from everything I've read, labor for first-time moms can last up to... to sixteen hours or more and... and that the delivery phase could be longer."

"It's not uncommon for first-time mothers to be in labor for days, but then again it all depends on the speed of the dilation and effacement."

He sighed. "Well, Ziva's two centimeters, so it looks like it's going to be slow."

Rachel chuckled softly, reaching over and patting his hand. "Don't worry, Tim. When she goes into labor, your instincts will kick in."

As they parted ways, Rachel turned back. "Oh, and Tim?" He met her gaze. "Did your doctor tell you that first-time mothers tend to _not_ go into labor until the forty-first week?"


	56. Chapter 56

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Ziva looked up as Tim came into the living room. She paused the DVD she'd put in and sat up. "Hey. _Sarit_ just left. Where were you?"

He sighed, joining her on the mattress, reaching out to gently rub her belly. "I called Dr. Cranston, asked her if we could meet for coffee and talk."

"The... psychologist Jeanne suggested?" He nodded. "What did you talk about?"

"The amnesia, how I'm doing in regards to it, and... and why I might had forgotten you and our marriage and Amal." The baby kicked hard at hearing his father's voice.

"And what did she say?" Tim wrinkled his nose.

"That my brain might have associated you and the baby with the accident and that's why I can't recall any memories in regards to you." His wife nodded softly.

"That could very well be true. It makes the most sense." He shrugged.

"So what did you and Sarah talk about?" His wife sighed.

"Motherhood. And... our babies and... our partners and... how we both ended up so lucky to have beautiful, amazing men in our lives." He chuckled softly, leaning over and capturing her in a gentle kiss, before settling down beside her and returning his attention to their son.

"He's going to be beautiful."

"Who, _ahuva_?" Ziva asked, reaching down and tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Our son. He's going to look just like you, with your dark features-" She reached down, resting a hand against her belly as she rubbed slow circles over the skin with her other hand. A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she turned to look at him.

"As long as he has your eyes, Tim." Gently, she reached up, trailing a finger down his jawline gently. She then returned her gaze to her stomach, watching as Tim continued to stroke and rub her belly, and how Amal continued to kick and shift in response to his father. "You're one active little boy, aren't you, Amal? Yes, you are. I've never known a little boy as active as you are- you're always moving. Have been ever since you were a tiny little bean of a baby..."

Tim stopped, watching his wife for several minutes, before he pressed a kiss to her head and got up. "Do you want some tea?" But Ziva didn't hear him; she was too busy talking to their son, rubbing slow circles on her belly as she spoke, stopping occasionally to press against the bottom of her belly where the baby's head was nestled, preparing for birth. When the baby was feeling too cramped, however, she'd get up and walk around or shift positions.

"You know, when I got into labor, you're going to have to stop moving, because then you'll be coming out of me. But once you're out of me, then you can move all you want, and _Abba_ and I will be there to hold you, and Auntie _Sarit_ is going to video your birth and take pictures-" She looked up, to find Tim standing beside the makeshift bed, watching her. "What?" He shook his head.

"Nothing. I just love watching you talk to him." He set the cups on the coffee table before joining her. He reached over, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together, resting their hands against her stomach; Amal kicked, feeling the change, and Ziva giggled softly.

"See? He knows when you're touching him. He can feel the change on my skin." She turned back to her son. "Do you feel the change on my skin, _ahuva_? Yeah, that's Daddy, he's touching you too." The baby kicked hard and Ziva released her husband's hand, reaching over for her cup of tea. Tim moved closer, pulling his wife into his side. "Here, hold on a minute." Once she set the mug down, she scooted forward, moving until she was sitting back against her husband, nestled firmly between his legs. "There, that way Amal can feel you on both sides of my belly instead of just the one."

She relaxed as Tim gently stroked the skin of her stomach, his fingers running gently over the stretchmarks on her skin. "I can't believe he's going to be here soon." Ziva nodded.

"He is." She turned to him. "And he's going to be beautiful, because he's ours." The kiss was soft, tender- and interrupted by a hard kick. Ziva laughed softly. "I know, baby boy. You don't want us to be paying attention to each other, you want us to be paying attention to you." Gently, she reached down, rubbing in a slow circle, before coming to rest her hand on her right side. She patted her stomach gently, a soft sigh escaping her throat. "Do you want me to keep playing with you, _ahuva,_ or do you want Daddy to play with you?"

The baby kicked in response, and Ziva shook her head, but continued rubbing. Soon Tim followed, his hands working slow circles over his wife's stretched skin. The movements seemed to rile Amal up more, and at one point he started pedaling- something that had Tim chuckling softly. "I think that's his favorite movement." She nodded as he kissed her temple. "You know, once he starts walking, we won't be able to sit down for a moment, right? We'll be chasing after him, stopping him from getting into everything, keeping him out of trouble and trying to get a handle on him."

"I know. And I look forward to it." A moment passed, and Ziva seemed to deflate slightly. "As strange as this sounds- I'm actually... I'm actually going to _miss_ being pregnant. I know that sounds... crazy, but... but I am. I... I'm used to feeling him move inside me all the time, and... and feeling him grow and change and... and soon he's going to be out in the world and... and then, eventually, we'll... we'll have to let him go..." She turned to him. "I'm not ready to let him go, Tim. I'm not."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, holding her close.


	57. Chapter 57

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Eight_

"Ziva, honey, you've cleaned every inch of this house, there's nothing more you can do." She sighed, turning to him.

"We just... I want everything ready for when he comes." Tim made his way to his wife, taking her in his arms.

"Everything is ready. There's nothing more we can do but enjoy these last two weeks together before he arrives."

"But-"

He rested a finger against her lips. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower. That might help relax you." She nodded, heading upstairs. An hour later, after she stepped out of the shower and pulled on a pair of underwear before settling on the bed with a book, Tim entered, the phone in hand. "Your mother's on the phone, wants to talk to you."

Once he was gone, Ziva settled the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Hi, _Ima_."

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

Ziva sighed. _I'm the size of a house, I'm pretty sure my feet and ankles have melded together, my joints are so loose I feel like a paper Halloween decoration held together with tacks, my breasts are nearly four times their normal size and leaking, I have to pee every five minutes, I may be dilating but haven't moved from two centimeters in a week, and I'm exhausted. How do you_ think _I'm doing?_ "I'm fine."

She swallowed, hearing the familiar tone of her mother's voice. "Zivaleh." A sigh escaped her throat.

"I'm sick of being pregnant, _Ima_. I know, that's a horrible thing to think, let alone say, but I just want him out. I want him out and in my arms and... and my labor isn't starting... I mean, I'm dilating, sure, but I'm only two centimeters... I'm terrified of giving birth. I mean, how painful is it going to get and how big is he? He can't be that big, right, I mean, I wasn't that big, when I was born, was I? And you weren't that big when you were pregnant with me, were you? And Jeanne said that if I go into labor, it could take weeks because this is my first..."

"Ziva, _ahuva_ , slow down. Okay? Take a deep breath and try to relax."

"I _can't relax, Ima_! I can't get comfortable enough to relax, because my son has taken over my body!" Rivka chuckled softly. "It's _not funny_ , _Ima_!"

"Where's Timothy, _ahuva_?"

"He's downstairs, _why_?"

"Can you go get him?" Her daughter sighed, pushing herself up. By the time she got to the landing, Tim was coming out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee and a cup of tea in his hands.

"Something wrong?" Ziva shook her head, holding the phone away and covering the mouthpiece.

"Join me?" He chuckled softly.

Once they returned to the bedroom, Ziva settled back on the bed and put the phone on speaker. Tim joined her, pressing a kiss to her head. "Everything okay, _Ima_?" Rivka chuckled.

"Would you _please_ try to get my daughter to calm down, Tim? I think she's having a panic attack."

Her husband raised an eyebrow. "For some reason that doesn't surprise me in the slightest." Ziva frowned, moving until she was sitting between his legs. She then tugged on his hands, relaxing when he began stroking her stomach. "Now, are you feeling at least a little calmer, sweetheart?" His wife nodded.

"Yes. It always calms me down when you rub my belly, and I think it calms Amal down too, even though it seems to rile him up more than anything." Tim chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"I was the same way when I was pregnant with you, Zivaleh. The only thing that seemed to relax me was your father's touch. Right up until you were born." Ziva furrowed a brow.

" _Ima_ , when was I born? I... I mean.. at what week?" Rivka was silent for a moment. She sighed.

"You were my first, Ziva. And a first-time mother usually goes into labor later. You were born at forty-one weeks. Which is the complete opposite of Talia, who was born at the end of forty-two weeks. She needed a little more time than you did. Which, really doesn't surprise me, since-"

"She's late for everything." Ziva finished, and Tim chuckled softly. "I swear, that girl's going to be late for her own funeral when she dies." She hissed as Amal kicked hard against his father's hand.

"My grandson still as rambunctious?"

"He never stopped, _Ima_." Ziva replied. "He gets really excited when both Tim and I rub my belly. It's like we're playing with him."

"Well, in a sense, you are. Or at least Amal sees it that way."

Her daughter sighed softly. " _Ima_ , is it... strange that I like it when Tim rubs my stomach?"

"Strange?" She glanced over her shoulder; Tim rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

"I mean... is it... horrible that... that I've liked the feel of his hands on me during my pregnancy? I... I like it when he touches me. I... I feel loved, I guess. It could just be my hormones-"

"Zivaleh, pregnancy is... it heightens everything for a woman. And I mean _everything_. So the slightest touch can seem... exceedingly erotic during pregnancy." Rivka sighed. "No, it's not strange. It's part of the process if anything."

"Oh." Ziva swallowed. "You'll be down here, after Amal is born, right, _Ima_? You'll come down to visit? You and _Abba_ and... and Tali and Malachi?"

"We wouldn't miss meeting our grandson for the world, Zivaleh."

"Now, do you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now spend some time with your husband and enjoy these last two weeks or so, okay?"

"Okay, _Ima_." Once Rivka hung up, Ziva turned back to her husband. "Tim, did I seem... scabber-brained during that phone call?" He stared at her for a few minutes, before,

"Scatter-brained?"

"Yes, scatter-brained." He opened his mouth and then closed it again, shaking his head.

"Not at all, sweetheart."

She smiled softly at him. _Good choice, ahuva._


	58. Chapter 58

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 52, DS2010 for reviewing 52, 53, 55, 56 and 57, Rosiesmomma4 for reviewing 52 and 53, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56 and 57.**

The music wafted through the house, and Ziva rested her head on Tim's shoulder, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. With two weeks left, Ziva was starting to go stir-crazy- she wanted her son out and out _now_.

"He's perfectly content in there, aren't you, _ahuva_?" Ziva looked down at her belly, where their hands rested, linked together. "You're not looking to come out any time soon, are you?" The baby kicked hard in response and Ziva winced. "Yeah, I know, we stopped dancing."

Tim chuckled. "Have you noticed that he tends to dictate everything we do at the moment?" She looked up at him.

"And why shouldn't he? We're the ones waiting while he gets ready to be born. It's no skin off his head if he doesn't come out when we want him to."

"Nose, sweetheart, skin off his nose. Not head."

She sighed. "Yes, well, I will not be surprised if he has a head full of hair. Even though the thought of my son having that much hair inside me makes me squirm."

Tim chuckled softly as she shivered, squeezing her gently and pressing a kiss to her own dark curls. "He's gonna be beautiful, sweetheart. This whole process is beautiful, from now until he's born." She turned, nuzzling her nose into his neck, a sigh of contentment escaping her throat.

"Do you really think he'll be beautiful, Tim?"

He pulled away, meeting her gaze. "How could he not be, with you as his mother?" She blushed, curling back against him, squeezing his hands gently.

"Don't forget, Timothy, you're his father. So our little Amal is going to be one very handsome little boy when he gets older."

Her husband chuckled, brushing another soft kiss to her temple. "Sarah told me that we're supposed to start recording when you go into labor until she gets here, then she'll film the rest of the process."

"We owe her, for doing this for us, especially since-" She stopped, her mind going to the heartbroken look in her sister's eyes that day. He squeezed her hands.

"I know, sweetheart. Believe me." They continued to sway in silence, until Ziva began to tire, and then they settled on the makeshift bed. Despite the summer heat, the house was cold, and so Tim had started a quick fire in the fireplace, which soon warmed the entire house. Once on the mattress, Ziva settled herself between her husband's legs, sliding one hand into his as his other came down to caress her belly.

"I remember the first night we officially used that fireplace, five months after we moved in here. It was in January, and there was six feet of snow outside. And it only got worse- we ended up not going into work because-"

"They couldn't dig through the snow fast enough to get to the front doors of NCIS. It was the worst snowstorm D.C., had seen in years. So we... we spent the day in front of the fire, roasting marshmallows, making s'mores and... making love."

She turned to him, surprise in her wide, dark eyes. "You... you remember that, Tim?"

A moment passed before he nodded, meeting her gaze. "Yeah, some of it."

"Tim, that... that was a year after we got married."

"It was?" She nodded at his furrowed brow.

"Yeah, we... we lived in your apartment until we got married and then we bought the house and moved in that Hanukkah. We were both so excited about it, that we-"

"Invited everyone over for dinner and ended up eating takeout on the floor. And after everyone left, we christened every room in the house."

A small smile tugged at Ziva's lips, and she leaned back, kissing him quickly. "We had so much fun that night." She glanced down at her belly, reaching down to rub her belly. "Honestly, I'm kind of surprised we didn't conceive our little Amal back then."

Tim shook his head. "We were careful. The last thing we wanted to do was get pregnant after we'd just gotten married." Ziva bit her lip, keeping quiet. She turned her attention back to their son, who was shifting against her skin. A moment passed before she looked up at her husband.

"Your memory _is_ returning, Tim. You just need to stop worrying and let it happen." She then leaned up, kissing him firmly on the mouth before settling back against his chest, watching as he released her hand and began stroking his fingers up and down her belly. A contented sigh escaped her throat and she stretched, letting her body sink against his. The feel of Amal kicking and stretching didn't even bother her as the feel of Tim's hands on her stomach, the warmth of the fire, the soft music and the feel of his heartbeat against her back lulled her to sleep.

Tim chuckled softly, brushing a tender kiss to his wife's forehead as she shifted, snuggling into him. He continued stroking her belly, and despite Amal's kicking, Ziva was so exhausted, she didn't wake. The baby kicked hard against his hand, and Tim couldn't help a smile. "Shh, easy sweetheart. _Ima_ 's finally asleep, you need to be gentle in your kicks otherwise you'll wake her up."

For a few minutes the baby didn't move, and then he kicked against his father's hand; Ziva shifted closer to Tim, nuzzling into his chest, her breathing even and relaxed. He spent the next several minutes watching the fire, his mind wandering to the little boy growing in his wife's womb, and what exactly had led him to this particular path.

He'd never intended on falling in love, on getting married and starting a family; though kids had always been something he'd wanted, he'd never been able to envision himself as a father, with a house filled with childish laughter and the sound of small feel scurrying about the rooms. If anything, Tim had always pictured himself caught in a divorce, possibly never seeing his child again due to a failed marriage, so this... this beautiful reality that was taking place...

He glanced down at Ziva, pressing another soft kiss to her head. He was going to do everything he possibly could to show Ziva that he was worthy of this amazing gift she was giving him, amnesia or no. "I promise, Ziva, I'll always be here. I'm never letting you go, either one of you."


	59. Chapter 59

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"She's _so_ close, Gibbs... two weeks left, and then our son will... will be here."

The Team Leader chuckled softly at the look of terror on the younger agent's face; his green eyes were filled to the brims with worry, fear and complete panic. Without a word, he reached up, caressing Tim's cheek. He gently stroked the young father's cheek, recognizing the fear that had once been in his own eyes when his daughter had been born. It was the type of look every father wore- whether their first or their last child.

The look of a man about to face the lion's den with only his hands for weapons. The type of look that would only get worse as she got closer and finally went into labor- the look that would morph into sheer terror at the realization of what their partner would become- the terror they would face once those delivery room doors shut behind him.

But unlike most men, Tim wouldn't run.

He'd be right by Ziva's side, the entire time.

"Tim, I'm gonna tell you something I learned when Kelly was born. And I'm only gonna say it once- so you damn well better listen." Slowly, the younger man nodded. Once satisfied that his agent was listening, Gibbs spoke, his voice soft, to calm the younger man down. "You know me, I've always put more stock in my gut than in science, like you or Abby- but on this, I'm gonna have't agree with you."

Tim waited, taking a sip of his beer. Gibbs sighed, "It's not gonna be pretty, Tim, what Ziva's gonna go through in the next couple weeks. It's gonna be worse than the worst crime scenes we've worked- no one, and I mean _no one_ \- prepares you- either of you- for the true ghastliness of birth, trust me. I went in like all other men when Kelly was born, expecting it to be a cake walk, that we'd go in, Shannon would have the baby in a matter of minutes and she'd be cute and pink and everything would be fine. I was dead wrong, on _all_ accounts. Every single one. Most fathers go in- and I admit, I was one of them- go in thinking it's gonna be lovely and whimsical and easy. There's no such thing as easy in childbirth."

He stopped, noticing Tim's leg shaking, and after a moment, he reached out, resting a hand on the younger man's knee to calm him down. "When Shannon got pregnant, our doctor told me that the girl I'd hitched up with was gone from the moment of conception– he told me she was fragile, and vulnerable, and would remain that way all the way through pregnancy, labor and the first few weeks after our daughter was born. 'Course I didn't believe him."

Tim took another sip of his beer, forcing it down his throat. "Birth is messy, and bloody and painful, and frightening and amazing and traumatizing and disgusting all at the same time. It's long and hard and tiring for her, and she needs all the support she can get." He sighed, scooting closer and reaching up to wrap an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Look, Tim, you're a problem solver, all men are, but this... it's gonna be frustrating, because you're gonna have'ta watch Ziva go through countless hours of pain, and there won't be anything you can do to take the pain away from her. You can help relax her, but you can't take it away; all you're gonna be able to do is comfort her best you can."

The younger man didn't respond, if anything, he paled. "Look at it this way, what that baby's gonna do for you once he comes out is give you a chance to come into your own."

"I don't understand." Blue eyes met green, and Gibbs sighed.

"That baby is going to knock down every wall, every fortress, every _cage_ you have around your heart, from the _moment_ he's born, and he's gonna look up at you and you're gonna fall so hard and so fast into love with that little boy that you won't be able to see straight. And Ziver's gonna lay him in your arms and all you're gonna do is hold him, and you'll realize that he's all your heart desired, that he's all your heart _ever_ desired."

"But... but what if I'm not cut out to be a dad, Gibbs?"

The Team Leader set his beer down, reaching up and taking the younger man's face in his hands. He gently stroked Tim's cheeks, seeing the terror in his eyes, realizing that this had been spinning around in his head for a while- ever since he woke up from the coma and learned his wife was pregnant. "You can't think that way, Tim. Because it'll do nothing but destroy you."

"But-"

"What were you taught, from the time you were a child?" The younger man thought a moment, before whispering,

"To... to win?" Gibbs nodded.

"And achieve, right?" He nodded. "Then look at these next two weeks as reaching an achievement. One that's life changing in so many ways. That little boy Ziver's carrying is going to change how you look at _everything_ \- from a cup of coffee to the crosswalk. He's gonna open your eyes to a whole new world you never _existed_ before he came along. He's gonna change how you look at your home, and work and your friends and coworkers... and how you look at your wife. This is gonna make you see Ziva in a whole new light, Tim. One you need to embrace." He pressed a kiss to the young father's forehead, whispering,

"And you know what, you've already started."


	60. Chapter 60

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Thirty-Nine_

She released a slow breath, before allowing Tim to help her down from the exam table. "Is there any particular reason why I haven't been dilating, Jeanne? Is that... normal?"

The doctor gave Ziva a small smile. "In first time mothers it's perfectly normal for there to be no change at first. You're at three percent effacement and you said that you've started feeling Braxton Hicks- more than in the previous weeks, which is good. You're in prodromal labor, which is basically preparing your cervix for birth." She reached over, gently lifting Ziva's chin. "Hey, don't get so discouraged. It's common for first time mothers to start prodromal labor days or even weeks before they actually go into full labor. And if they stop, don't fret, just go about your day and try not to focus on them. Okay?" Ziva nodded. "Spend some time with your husband and enjoy it, because before you know it, your little one will be here. Now go home and get some rest, and _don't focus_ on the Braxton Hicks, okay? You _hear_ me?"

"I hear you."

When they got home, she grabbed his wrist, tugging him upstairs. "Bath, _now_." Twenty minutes later, Ziva was settled between his legs, resting back against his chest, watching as he gently rubbed her belly. Amal kicked against his father's hands, and Tim sighed, pressing a kiss to her head.

"You heard Jeanne, sweetheart, you're in prodromal labor- that's good. You've been going through Braxton Hicks for the last couple weeks or so, that means your body's getting ready-"

"I know. I just-" She sighed, closing her eyes briefly as she laid her head against his chest. "I want to hold him and kiss him and..."

Tim sighed, reaching up and gently brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "I know you do, honey, I do too. But look at it this way- Amal isn't ready to come out into the world yet. He wants to spend just a little more time in your womb, where he's safe and protected and loved. That's all. He just wants to spend a little more time in his _Ima_ 's belly- and he might be just as scared as you are about the birth."

She turned at her husband's whisper, raising an eyebrow. "I am not scared of giving birth, Timothy."

He mirrored her raised eyebrow, and she sighed, lowering her gaze to the scar on his chest. "Okay, I'm scared. But can you blame me?"

"No. You have every right to be."

Without a word, she reached up, caressing his cheek. "You wonderful man. What did I ever do to deserve you?" The kiss was soft, gentle-

She pulled away, hissing softly. "Ziva?" She held up a hand, taking a deep breath.

"Just Braxton. That's all."

"You're sure?" She nodded, giving him a tiny smile.

Once they got out of the tub and dressed, they returned downstairs, where Ziva settled on the makeshift bed, watching as Tim started a fire to ward off the chill in the house. She slipped into his arms as he joined her, resting her head on his chest. Tim's hands moved down to caress her belly, and she sighed. So Jeanne had told her that her labor was progressing slowly- but, at least she was _in_ labor, prodromal though it was. Finally.

"What are you thinking about?" She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. A moment passed, before she bit her lip.

"Just... thinking about our little Amal. Who he's going to look like, what color his eyes are going to be... if he's going to be as rambunctious outside my womb as he is in-"

"Oh, _that's_ definite." Tim replied, stroking his fingers over her belly slowly. The baby kicked, as if disagreeing with his father, and both Tim and Ziva laughed.

"He certainly seems to have a mind of his own, doesn't he, our son?"

"Just like his mother." Ziva grinned, meeting his gaze. Gently, he reached up, caressing her cheek. "I hope he's a spitfire, an absolute and complete spitfire, just like the woman I married."

"You would really want Amal to be just like me, Tim? Reacting exactly the same way I do to things and driving you completely and totally up the hall?" Her husband chuckled, reaching up and taking her face in his hands.

"Absolutely, in every way possible."

Ziva screwed up her mouth, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "Well that doesn't work at all, Timothy."

"Why not?"

"Because, _ahuva_ , I want our little Amal to be like you. With that... beautiful logic you possess and that... thoughtful personality of yours. My _Savta_ always said that... the water in the man you love, must calm the fire in yourself, and that... when the two combine... air is the result. The... perfect balance between fire and water... that any child created by fire and water will be born of air, and thereby be... be the perfect balance of both his parents." Tim smiled softly at her, pressing a kiss to each of her palms. "Silly David superstition, of course, but... but a part of me can't help wondering if that's true."

Her husband chuckled softly, nipping gently at her thumb. "We'll find out in a week."

She nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, we will." She whispered, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a soft kiss. He pulled back when she nipped gently, playfully, at his bottom lip. He chuckled, tugging her closer and kissing her lightly. The kiss soon turned deep, and she reached down, sliding her fingers through his as they rested on her stomach. When they finally broke the kiss, Ziva nudged her nose against his, meeting her husband's gaze. "If I wasn't thirty-weeks, I'd have you take me here and now."

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Give it a few weeks, sweetheart. We'll be back to making love before you know it."


	61. Chapter 61

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"So you've been having Braxton Hicks?" Ziva nodded, taking a seat beside Sarah at the kitchen table. "Do they hurt?"

"A little. They aren't _so_ strong that they're regular contractions, and they're pretty irregular. They stop if I shift positions or move in any way."

"And you still aren't dilating?"

She shook her head. "Still two centimeters."

"Oh, Ziva, I'm sorry. I know how badly you want Amal to come." She reached out, taking her sister's hand. Ziva shrugged.

"He'll come when he's ready. He's not ready yet. He wants to stay inside a little longer." She glanced down at her belly, reaching down to brush a hand against the swollen mound. "Besides, I don't think I'm entirely ready to give birth to him just ye-" The words died on her lips as she looked up, her gaze locking on the ring on her sister's finger. _"Oh, Sarah!"_

The young photographer blushed, pulling her hand away. She subconsciously began playing with the simple diamond ring, quickly glancing at the other woman. "Kind of... hard to miss, isn't it?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow. " _Kind of_?" She laughed softly. "When did he ask you?"

"Monday night. He took me out to dinner and afterwards, we went for a walk along the Arlington Memorial Bridge. I took my camera, and when I went to take some shots, it wasn't working, so I opened the hatch where the batteries are, and he'd taken out the batteries and slipped it in there when I wasn't looking."

"Monday? You've kept this a secret for _four_ days? _Sarah! How could you?_ You're worse than Abby when it comes to secrets!"

Instead of being insulted, the younger woman just laughed, shaking her head. "I wanted to tell you in person, but you two have been so busy spending some quality time before my nephew comes that I didn't want to disturb you." Ziva rolled her eyes.

"You could have disturbed us for something like this! Oh, Sarit! Congratulations!" The young photojournalist allowed her sister-in-law to envelope her in a hug, and she rested her head on Ziva's shoulder, sighing.

"I want you and Timmy to meet Jason."

"We'd love to meet- _I'd_ love to meet Jason." Ziva amended, knowing exactly how her husband would react. Sarah chuckled softly, closing her eyes.

"He's a wonderful man, Ziva, he really is. He's like Timmy in a lot of ways. He never left my side, from the moment we found out I was pregnant to after Shanti died. He was there every step of the way, helping me to get through it. Without him... I don't think I would have come from her death. It was so... sudden, so... surprising. One minute, my baby is growing in me, healthy and strong and exactly as she should and the next... the next I'm holding her in my arms as she takes her last breath at twenty-four weeks... if Jason hadn't been there, I'd have given up and probably joined her."

Gently, Ziva reached up, stroking her sister's hair. "He sounds like a wonderful man."

"He is." Slowly, Sarah pulled away, taking a deep breath. Her gaze went to Ziva's belly, a small smile playing on her lips as she reached down, resting her hands on her sister-in-law's round stomach. "I still can't believe that Timmy's going to be a _daddy_." Ziva followed her gaze, reaching down and lifting her blouse up, revealing the distended skin.

"And you're going to be getting married." The two women shared a soft laugh, and Ziva watched as Sarah gently brushed her fingers the swell. Amal kicked in response to Sarah's light touch. "You'd think by now he'd stop moving because it's so cramped in there. Not my son." Sarah chuckled, and continued to stroke her sister's belly; the baby kicked again. "I know, _ahuva_ , that's Auntie _Sarit!_ " Amal gave another kick at his mother's voice. "Yeah," She giggled. "Auntie _Sarit_ 's Daddy's little sister. Just like Auntie Tali is mine..." Another sharp kick met Ziva's mention of Tim, and Sarah pulled back.

"He's strong-" She watched as Ziva rubbed a hand slowly over her belly, starting on the left and moving in slow circles towards the right and up, before repeating it several times.

"He absolutely _loves_ it when I mention Tim."

"I could tell." Ziva nodded, turning her gaze down to her tummy as she gently stroked a thumb along the top before moving her hand over the mound.

"Or if Tim's holding me, and he's rubbing my belly, Amal get excited and starts to play. And if it's _both_ of us rubbing my belly at the _same time_ -"

"Then he goes crazy."

"Crazy doesn't even _begin_ to describe how our son reacts when both Tim and I rub my belly." Sarah chuckled, before cautiously reaching out and returning to rubbing her sister's belly. Ziva grinned. "Is Auntie Sarah playing with you now, Amal? Hmm?" The baby kicked, shifting from side to side as Sarah's hand moved over his mother's tummy in slow circles. "Are you having fun, _ahuva_? Is Sarah playing with you? Yeah, she's playing with you, isn't she? Yes she is- I know because I can feel her."

"Sarah's playing with Amal this time instead of you, sweetheart?" Both women looked up as Tim entered the kitchen, going to the stove and starting a pot of tea. He'd been in the living room, working on a new novel, and got up to stretch his legs and get away from his writing for a while. His wife smiled softly at him.

"Of course _Sarit_ 's playing with Amal, why wouldn't she? He's her nephew." Once he fixed his cup, he made his way to the table.

"You'd think by now our son would focus on getting ready to be born in the next week instead of playing with his aunt. Sorry, Sarah." His sister waved it away, watching with a grin on her face as Tim reached down, gently rubbing circles on his wife's belly; Amal kicked hard in excitement, recognizing the shift against his mother's skin.

"Amal can't help it, sweetheart. He likes to play." Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Like mother, like son." He kissed his wife firmly before heading back into the living room, kissing Sarah firmly on the head as he left. Both women rolled their eyes.


	62. Chapter 62

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 59 and 61, DS2010 for reviewing 58, 59, 60 and 61; Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 58, 59, 60 and 61 and Umm/My apologies for reviewing 60 and 61. And to Umm/My apologies- don't worry about it. I didn't believe that a woman could go into labor weeks earlier either until I myself went into labor with my first at 37 weeks.- Licia**

"I can't believe Sarah's _engaged_. Did she tell you first?" His wife looked up from tracing patterns on her belly. A moment passed before she nodded. "Why did she tell you first and not me?"

"Because she knew how you'd react." He rolled his eyes.

"How I'd 'react'?" Ziva nodded. "How would I react?" His wife raised an eyebrow as he joined her on the makeshift bed.

"How you usually react whenever Sarah even _talked_ about dating anyone- protective border-lining on stalkerish-murderer."

He glared at her. "I was _not that_ bad." She laughed, reaching up and taking his chin in her hand.

"Yes you were, _ahuva_."

He moved to pull away, but she tightened her hold. "I was not." A soft giggle escaped her throat, and she grinned.

"Oh, come now. That's how I know you're going to be a wonderful father to Amal."

"How?"

"Because if you are willing to go to any lengths to protect Sarah," She started, releasing his chin. "then the lengths you will go to protect our son will be immensely greater." She kissed him quickly, before snuggling close. "Now, are we going to watch this or not?" As it got closer and closer to birth, Ziva had taken to watching birth videos on YouTube, to get a sense of what she'd be going through when labor began. So far, all the videos and documentaries she'd watched had fascinated her; and while Tim had squirmed, he'd sat by her side, watching women go through what his wife would soon be going through. "I don't see how she can be so calm."

Tim slid his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "A big part of it _has_ to be that she trusts her body and knows that what's she's doing is ingrained, even if she doesn't realize it."

"Yeah, but... but will I be able to do that?" She turned to him. "I mean... who's to say that I... that I won't chicken out and... go to the hospital and get an epidural or have a c-section?"

"That will only happen if something goes wrong, but the pregnancy has been normal, and both you and Amal have been strong and healthy-"

"But what if I can't give birth naturally? What if I can't do that?"

He pulled away, taking her face in his hands. "Ziva, sweetheart, you can do anything and everything that you set your mind to." She nodded.

"You think so?"

"I _know_ so." She smiled softly, nuzzling into his chest and turning her gaze back to the screen. She soon lost interest in the Youtube videos, however.

"Jason's stayed with her, Tim. He didn't abandon Sarit when she got pregnant, or when she went into premature labor, when she gave birth. He didn't abandon her after they lost their baby girl, or even after she had to have her hysterectomy. He's stayed with her... through... through the worst thing a parent can go through, the loss of a child... and he loves her. He loves her, Tim, _that's_ why he asked her to marry him. Because he loves her, and he's willing to stand by her through everything. If they can survive the loss of their child and the chance at any other children, then they can survive marriage."

He sighed, sliding his arms around her and gently stroking her belly. "But-"

"And if we can survive your accident and the amnesia that resulted from it- and our marriage is getting stronger from it, then Sarah and Jason can survive what they've gone through and come out on the other end _together_. Like you and I are."

"Ziva-"

She reached down, brushing a hand over her belly. Amal kicked firmly at his mother's touch, and Ziva giggled. "I'm not the only one that thinks so. Amal certainly agrees with me, don't you, _ahuva_?" There was another firm kick, one that hit Tim's palm as he stroked his hand over the top of her belly. "Yeah, I know. Daddy's doing good, isn't he? His memories are slowly coming back, and he's starting to remember us a little more."

"Remember you, Ziva. I'm starting to remember you a little more. But our son-" She met his gaze, gently stroking the top of her belly.

"Amal knows, sweetheart. He understands."

"How can he understand, Ziva? He's still in your belly- he's not even born yet."

"But he still understands, Tim. He knows that we've been struggling with the repercussions of the accident, the amnesia... and he knows that you've been getting better. Because when I've been stressed, it affects him, too. But we've been doing good these last few months. And Amal knows that. And he's proud of you, Tim."

Her husband shook his head, but kept quiet. He returned to stroking her belly, running his hands over the thinned skin of her stomach, watching as their son pushed and kicked against her skin. "Look." Ziva turned to him. "That's his foot." She reached down, feeling her son's foot against her skin. She hissed softly.

"It doesn't always feel great, but it's cool to watch. Ow." She shifted, reaching up and feeling beneath her breasts. "And my ribs are right here, so it... hurts my ribs." A sigh escaped her throat, and she returned to stroking her belly. "You can come out now, _ahuva_. Daddy and I are anxious to meet you." But all Amal did was kick his mother in response.

Tim chuckled softly, kissing her head. "I think he's gonna be staying in there a little longer, sweetheart."


	63. Chapter 63

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 _Week Forty_

"Hey, Tim?"

He returned from the living room, carrying the photographs he'd printed for Amal's baby book, and took a seat beside his wife at the kitchen table. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He kissed her quickly before leaning close to study the pages they were working on.

 _Forty Weeks!_

 _Ima's officially at the end, but just because she's at the end, doesn't mean I'm coming yet! I might want to stay inside a little longer!_

His wife quickly pasted the photograph beneath the lettering, before turning to him. "I've been thinking-"

"Oh God, we both know how dangerous that is." She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, shaking her head. "Sorry, darling." He propped he elbow on the table and resting his temple against his knuckles. "What have you been thinking about?"

"I know _Sarit_ agreed to film the birth, but... would you object to her staying with us until the baby's born?" He raised an eyebrow. "Just... just so she can be here when it really starts. So she's nearby. Please, Tim. Would you at least consider it?" He pretended to think a minute, furrowing a brow before chuckling.

"Did you even have to ask, sweetheart?"

She met his gaze. "I thought I should."

"Well you don't always have to."

"So it's okay if _Sarit_ stays with us?"

"Of course, do you even have to ask?" Their lips met in a soft kiss, and after a moment, Ziva slid a hand along his neck, pulling him closer. Amal kicked firmly against his mother's belly, and Ziva pulled away, whimpering softly. "You okay, sweetheart?" She nodded, glancing down at her belly.

"It just... it hurts when he kicks... because of my skin being stretched so..." She bit her lip, momentarily closing her eyes; she released a slow breath, reaching down to caress her stomach. "Easy, _ahuva_. It hurts when you kick." She winced as the baby kicked hard in response. "I know, baby boy. I want you to come out too. But _Abba_ and I are anxious to meet you."

An hour later, Ziva rested her head on his shoulder as the warmth of the water began to relax her. She'd begun to find in the last week that spending this time in the bath was soothing, and that having Tim to relax against brought its own comfort in and of itself. Yes, her husband was going be a wonderful support when she went into labor.

 _No, active labor- when you go into active labor._ _You're in labor, well, early labor- though at this point, it's more along the lines of pretend because this kid is never coming out!_

"What are you thinking about?" She lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

"What makes you think I'm thinking of something?" Tim rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? Ziva, I _know_ you. I know everything about you. I know that you like Berry Mango Madness smoothies, and that you preferred G.I. Joe over Barbies," His wife blushed. "And that your foot size is a seven, but _occasionally_ you wear shoes in a size five-"

"Not anymore." She muttered, lifting a foot a few inches out of the water. "I will be surprised if I'm not wearing a size ten or twelve once Amal is born, from the size of my ankles alone."

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head before continuing. "I know that you can play the piano _exceptionally_ well- and can carry a tune better than I ever could," She laughed. "and that you have a set of Kerouac's works that are falling apart because you've read them so much,"

"I like Kerouac."

"I also know that your favorite perfume is Haviar Christian Number Five, because I gave you a small bottle for our second anniversary and you treat it like it's gold in the jungle."

"It's expensive and you spent a lot on-" She stopped, turning to him. "You remember what you got me for our anniversary?"

He met her gaze. "Yeah. We went out to dinner and I slipped you the box during dessert. You just about shattered the windows, with your screaming."

"I was... surprised." She whispered, meeting his gaze. Gently, she reached up, brushing her knuckles against his cheek. "See, _ahuva_ , the amnesia's letting some memories through. By the end of the year, I bet it'll all come back."

By the time they had gotten out of the tub and gone into the bedroom, Ziva had to laugh. "You have an uncle that bred Arabians and you wanted a pony when you were _three_..."

"Make your _point_ , Timothy, my love?" She replied, helping him turn down the covers before climbing underneath and settling back against the pillows that had been propping her up for the last several months.

"My point, Ziva, my darling, is that I know everything there is to know about you. I know what you like and what you don't like, what drives you up the wall and what makes you laugh and the various ways you've considered killing Tony. I know your favorite sex position and how you like crushed Oreos in your vanilla pudding. I know you have an addiction to _Once Upon a Time_ and that you're favorite Broadway musical is a tie between _Rent_ and _Wicked_. I know where you keep your fluffy pink socks for winter and where you hide your _Harry Potter_ novels. I know you'd rather wax than shave and that up until the pregnancy, you hated bacon." He reached over, resting a hand on her belly and rubbing gently. "I know that it took you years to finally accept that you were part of the team, and that maybe you could love me, and that you're terrified of being a horrible mother, or of something going wrong and having Amal grow up to hate you..." He pressed gently on her belly, feeling the baby kick hard in response. "I know that the thought of going into labor terrifies you, but I also know," He reached up, lifting her chin. "That you are going to be an amazing mother, Ziva."

" _How_ , Tim? Amal isn't even _born_ yet-"

He smiled softly. "Because you already are, sweetheart."


	64. Chapter 64

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"I don't think I can get any bigger, I really don't."

Abby laughed softly, watching as her best friend softly stroked her belly. "Have you started labor yet?"

"If I remember correctly, I think Jeanne said that I'm in prodromal labor, which is basically early labor. I'm like... two centimeters dilated and I don't think I've started effacing yet, and the contractions are more like Braxton Hicks- they really aren't that regular, and they aren't really affected by what I do. Like... if I shift positions or get up, they stop."

"How's Tim taking everything?"

Ziva sighed. "He's taking this whole process fine. And his memory is coming back- like last night, after we got out of the bath, he was able to tell me... like, my favorite food and my favorite color and... and he remembered the night he gave me that perfume on our second wedding anniversary. I think... if he just is patient, and gives it time, that eventually, the amnesia will go away and his memories will come back."

"His memories of you and baby ninja."

Ziva rolled her eyes, and nodded. "Yeah." She whimpered softly as Amal kicked against her hand.

"How far are you, Ziva?"

"Forty weeks and four days." Abby winced.

"I can't even imagine being that big." Ziva chuckled.

"Honestly, neither could I, but I am."

Eventually, Abby left with a kiss to Ziva's cheek, telling the young mother that she could see herself out and promising that she'd be there if they needed her for anything. Once she was gone, Ziva got up, heading into the living room and settling on the makeshift bed. Tim was out to lunch with Sarah, since "this would be the last time in a long time she'd be able to take her big brother out before he became a daddy", and Abby had come over to spend some time with Ziva so she wouldn't be bored out of her mind. However now, Ziva found that she liked having the house to herself.

Well, herself and Amal.

She turned on the TV, flipping it to a movie, that she'd wanted to watch, but soon lost interest as memories of the night before came flooding back. She set the remote down and began rubbing circles on her belly, a soft smile on her face. "I know, _ahuva_ , you're waiting for just the right moment to come out, aren't you? You're like your daddy in that respect- Daddy always plans _everything_. But that's what I love about him. And occasionally," She sighed, sitting up and removing the wrap dress she wore before settling back against the pillows. "Occasionally, Daddy's plans don't go as they should, or something comes along to mess up his plans or completely surprises us, like you did."

A hiss escaped her throat as Amal kicked hard, in excitement at hearing her talk about Tim. No matter how cramped it was inside her womb, Amal would still move and kick and shift, especially when his father was mentioned or near. Especially in the last three weeks or so, whenever Tim had talked or he'd been rubbing her belly, she'd noticed that Amal seemed to get exceedingly excited, to the point where his kicks would be violent, morphing her thinned skin into small mounds and hills that she was afraid would bruise from the inside out.

"Yeah, you're _definitely_ Daddy's boy. But I knew that long before now. Back when Daddy was still in the coma, I would sit by his bed and hold his hand to my tummy, and," She took a deep breath, blinking back tears. She preferred not to think of those three long months when she would stop by the hospital every morning to visit her husband, those first three months of her pregnancy, when she'd sit by Tim's bedside and hold his hand and talk to him, telling him about the changes she was going through and how strong their baby was getting and how much he was growing. Of how she'd hold his hand against her stomach and pray to God that he felt the swell beneath her shirt, that he could feel the quickening- and later on, the distinct movements of their son in her belly.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "and I'd tell him about you- about how big you were getting, and about how Jeanne was having a hard time finding you on the ultrasound because you would hide from her, and how you really seemed to like peanut butter..." Gently, she stroked her stomach, thinking. "And I... I would hope, and there were days when I'd sit by Daddy's bedside and... and pray that he could hear me, and pray that he could feel my touch and my kiss and that... that he could feel you..." She sniffled, her emotions getting the better of her. "And you know, _ahuva_ , there were days when I thought he could feel me, could hear me, that he could feel you moving inside me and... and I used to tell him of... of all the things our family brought over to the house for you, and how they were looking out for us... and I used to bring the sonogram pictures and hold them in front of Daddy and... and tell him all about you and how big you were and what you were doing and... and how I could feel you move in my tummy..."

Amal kicked hard against her hand, and she laughed softly. "I'd hold Daddy's hand against my belly and... and remind him that you were moving... and that... that movement was just for him, that you were moving just _especially_ for him, that you were showing him what you could do and... and that he had to feel you to believe it. And I think he knew. I think, somewhere... somewhere deep, deep, way deep down in Daddy's conscious, so far down that it got lost, he knew. I think that he knew all along that you were moving for him, and that... that if he woke up, he would get to see you and feel you move and... and then get to hold you." Another firm kick met her hand as she continued to rub her belly.

"I know, sweetheart, I'm talking about Daddy and he's not here. It's very rude of me. But he's having lunch with Auntie _Sarit_ , so he'll be home later." She sniffled, patting her belly gently before moving her hands down to cradle the bottom of her stomach, where his head was. "From the moment you were conceived, you were _Abba_ 's boy... hmm, my little track star..." She swallowed. "You are helping to bring Daddy back to me, to us. So... so you just... you keep being Daddy's boy, you hear me, Amal? Because... because you are what brought Daddy out of his coma, and you are going to be what brings him back to us. You hear me? Daddy may not come back for me, but he'll come back for you. Because Daddy loves you."

She looked up to find Tim leaning against the doorway, watching her, arms crossed. "I love you, too, Ziva. I love _you_ , too."


	65. Chapter 65

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"You _sure_ you don't mind me staying with you for the next couple of weeks, Timmy? This is _your_ house, after all."

Her brother waved the question away, setting her bag on the bed in the remaining intact guestroom- because Ziva refused to let him put the first guestroom back in order- and took a seat on the bed. "Sarah, if Ziva and I didn't want you here, we wouldn't have asked." She sighed, taking a seat beside him.

"I just... don't want to be in the way, or... feel like I'm gonna be a third wheel-"

"Sarah, our son is going to be coming into the world sometime in the next three days or so, so you being here isn't a third wheel, it's the whole car. And if you feel like you're in the way, let me know, I'll kick you out." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Besides," He reached up, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "This is important to us. Our son is going to be here soon, and we want Auntie Sarah there to help us document his arrival. It wouldn't be right, if you weren't there with us." She gave him a small smile before wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"I love you, Timmy."

"Love you, too, Sarah." He kissed her forehead, pulling away as Ziva entered the room, hands resting on her back.

"Come on, we're gonna be late, Tim. My appointment, remember?" He nodded, getting up, before turning back to Sarah.

"Come with us?" A moment passed, before a smile tugged at the end of Sarah's lips.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

An hour later, Sarah leaned against the far wall, watching in silence as Jeanne checked her sister-in-law. Ziva turned towards the younger woman, holding out a hand. "You don't have to stand all the way over there, _Sarit_ , you can move closer. Nothing bad is happening."

"I know." The younger woman whispered, before slowly making her way towards the exam table and taking Ziva's hand. While Sarah went willingly, Tim still held back, and often had to be pushed into taking her hand.

"You've still got a bit of your mucus plug, and you're about three centimeters dilated now." The Israeli groaned in annoyance, flinging an arm over her eyes.

"Why won't he just _come_ already?" Jeanne chuckled, moving to gently feel along her stomach.

"I know, it's frustrating. You aren't the first mother to be upset because you aren't making much progress, trust me." She stopped, feeling something. "Have you been having regular contractions, Ziva?" The young mother bit her lip, pushing herself onto her elbows.

"K... kind of. They... they kind of feel like Braxton Hicks, and then sometimes they feel little bit stronger, and they're kind of irregular."

Jeanne nodded. "Well, your cervix is softening and moving, and it's starting to thin. I'd say it's probably about... fifteen or twenty percent effaced at the moment. But give it time. You'll get there. Okay?" Ziva sighed, nodding. "Will a little bit of patience, he'll be born soon."

Her head snapped up. "Soon?" But Jeanne just smiled.

They stopped by the birth center on the way home, bringing a few things to place in the room- extra pillows, a few blankets, a couple books- so that when she went into labor, they weren't scrambling for things, which was fine. Emily, the receptionist, quite liked Ziva, and, having nearly lost her own spouse to a car accident six years earlier, felt protective of the young mother, for she knew what Ziva was going through, being pregnant and adjusting to having her husband home after such a traumatic accident. And, she was happy to see Tim a bit more cooperative than he'd been before, though, considering the fact that he was acting like most first-time fathers, she let it go with a pat on the back.

By the time they arrived home, Ziva was exhausted and slipped upstairs to take a quick shower, leaving the siblings in the kitchen fixing dinner. They worked in silence for several minutes before Sarah finally spoke.

"Is it... does it... make me a horrible person, Timmy?"

"Does what make you a horrible person, Sarah?" He asked, adding chopped onions to the sauce. His sister met his gaze briefly, before returning to the oregano she was chopping.

"That I... I wish it was me and not... not Ziva... at... at forty weeks." He stopped, turning to her.

"Sarah, what's wrong? Talk to me."

The photographer shook her head, taking a deep breath. "You'll just think I'm being petty."

"No I won't. Sarah, I'm your big brother. Overachieving and smart-mouthed, yes, but petty? Never, Sarah. You don't have a petty bone in your body."

She moved away from the island until her back hit the sink. Without a word, she crumpled to the floor. "I just... Jason and I wanted Shanti _so bad_ when we found out... and we got her... and we had her for... for _twenty-four weeks and then... and then my stupid body turned on itself_ and... and I lost her... _I only felt her breath for an hour... she didn't cry... she didn't look at me... she couldn't, her eyes were closed... she held my finger and... and her heart stopped..."_

"Oh, Sarah." He joined her, reaching out to rake his fingers through her hair. "You don't have to do this, Sarah. You _shouldn't_ be doing this. Ziva and I can get along fine without-"

" _No!_ No, Timmy, this is _important!_ _This is your son!_ "

"Babies are born all the time without being filmed or photographed during labor, and you're in not shape emotionally to-"

"I'm not backing on my promise, Tim! I'm going to film Amal's birth, because _something good_ _has_ to come out of _Shanti's death_! If it doesn't... then all I've done is _fail_..." He pulled her into his arms, rocking her gently back and forth. Sarah clung to him, breaking down, finally letting go of the pain and heartache she'd carried since her daughter's death. When Tim looked up, it was to Ziva in the doorway, tears in her eyes. Gently, he pressed a kiss to his sister's head.

"You're not a failure, Sarah. You're not weak... if anything, you're one of the strongest women I know. If not the strongest."


	66. Chapter 66

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"How's Mama doing?"

"It's been two days since we saw Jeanne, how do you _think_ she's doing, Sarah?"

The young photographer held up her hands in surrender, following her brother out of the kitchen and into the living room. As the two settled on the sofa chatting, Ziva came into the living room from the bathroom. "You okay, Ziva?" She nodded silently at her sister, before joining them, settling back against her husband. Tim slid an arm around her, pulling her close and gently stroking her belly.

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" Slowly, the young mother turned, meeting his gaze.

"I... I lost the rest of my mucus plug." Her husband shook his head, green eyes narrowing.

"Okay?"

Sarah rolled her eyes; sometimes her brother could be so incredibly thick it was funny. "God, Timmy, don't you _listen_ at her appointments? Her cervix is softening; has been for the last few weeks. She's in the early stages of labor. Doesn't necessarily _mean_ she's going to give birth today, but it could be soon, just like the doctor said."

"Thank you, Sarah, I got that."

"Are you sure, or do you need me to explain it again?"

He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned it, getting a smile out of Ziva before she turned to the older woman, reaching out and taking her hand. "Just relax, Ziva. Nothing to get upset or excited about, like she said, right?"

"Right."

"Are your contractions still irregular?" The Israeli nodded. "Okay. Then just focus on the now, and not on your labor until they become regular and more intense, remember?"

Later that night, Ziva snuggled into Tim's arms, wanting nothing more than to be held, despite the enormous weight she carried in front of her. She could only take trying to sleep semi-sitting without the contact with her husband for so long, and she wanted it now, before their son arrived and she and Tim would be pushing each other out of the bed in the middle of the night to take care of him. Their hands laced, resting on her belly, but unfortunately, neither could sleep, even though for once, Amal seemed to be sleeping, for there was no movement, no tiny feet or hands trying to play with them. Clearly the boy had worn himself out in the last few weeks. But for his parents, the realization that their son could be out in the world soon had them both wide awake. "Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Unfortunately, yes." He squeezed her hands gently. "You aren't the only one that Amal's kept awake." Ziva chuckled softly, selfishly happy to hear of such a thing. But soon, her fears began to take hold again and she swallowed, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Are you... scared? Of... of what's coming? Because he's going to be here soon and... and then... and and then we'll be parents... like... not just... soon-to-be parents, but parents of an actual baby that's _going to be in our arms_ , and we'll... we'll be the ones responsible for _raising_ him and making sure he gets into a good _colleg_ e and makes the right decisions and... and stays away from the wrong people and..."

"Shh, hush, Ziva." He reached up, quickly stroking her hair back behind her ear, gently pressing a kiss to her head. "You're working yourself up over something that's _years_ away."

"But-"

"We have eighteen years before he grows up, Ziva. Hell, Amal isn't even out in our arms yet and you're worried about the college he'll attend and the job he gets."

She sighed. "I just... Jeanne said it could be soon and..." She swallowed, squeezing his hands gently. "What if... what if I'm not a good mother? What if I'm a horrible mother? Tim, I was a killer, what kind of child could a killer raise? I mean, look at my father- look at what he did to me-"

He squeezed her hands gently, brushing a kiss to her hair. "That's _ridiculous_ , Ziva. Absolutely and completely ridiculous. You are _not_ your father; his mistakes are not going to be yours. Amal is not going to turn into a killer simply because you were one for Mossad before you came to America. You're a wonderful mother now, and you'll be a wonderful mother after Amal's born."

"But-"

"No buts, honey. Trust me, you'll be a wonderful mother." She met his gaze, giving him a soft smile and a gentle kiss before pulling away and getting up, scrambling with difficulty out of the bed. Something felt off.

"I'll be right back."

The bathroom door slammed shut behind her, and Tim sighed, shifting onto his back. He quickly rubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. "I don't care if I never remember the last four years of my marriage, but all I want... all I think I've ever wanted is to remember my wife and son. Why did you have to take that away from me? And what can I possibly do to get them back?" He laughed dryly. "God, you're so exhausted McGee, that you're talking to nothing but the ceiling-"

He sat up as the bathroom door opened. "Ziva, sweetheart, what's wrong?" After quickly turning on the light he got up, rushing to her. She swallowed, hands resting on her back before looking up at him. How did she tell her husband that the 'bloody show' Jeanne had told her about had stained her underwear, that that meant that sometime in the next few days, she'd be in full-blown labor, that would lead to her pushing their son out of her body? What exactly could she say that would make it as real for him as it was for her?

She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. Trying to keep her voice as calm as possible,

"We... we need to go to the birth center, Tim. _Now_."


	67. Chapter 67

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 66, DS2010 for reviewing 62, 63, 64, 65 and 66, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 62, 63, 64, 65 and 66.**

 _Week Forty-One_

She took a deep breath, looking up as Sarah turned the video camera towards her. "Okay, so it's one a.m. on Monday morning and we're at the Bundle of Joy Birth Center. Ziva, you want to tell everyone _why_?"

" _Sarah_ , you're not conducting an interview."

"Oh, _hush_ , Timmy!" She turned back to her sister-in-law, who sat on the sofa beside her husband, looking exhausted and definitely the worse for wear. "So, Ziva?"

The young mother took a deep breath, closing her eyes and resting a hand on her belly, tensing up. A moment passed before she looked up at her sister-in-law, and gave the younger woman a small smile. "I lost the rest of my mucus plug and um... the bloody show, I think is what they call it, and... when we got here three hours ago, Jeanne, our doctor, checked, she said that I'm about... twenty-five percent effaced, but I'm not dilating yet. She said it might take anywhere from a few minutes to another hour or two, depending on how fast my labor progresses."

"But this means you're in labor, _right_?" Ziva nodded, sighing.

"Yes, _Sarit_. This means that I'm in labor." She sighed. "It's finally happening."

Eventually, Sarah set the camera up so it wasn't far from the window, facing into the room, still recording, it's gaze on the sofa, before she took a seat in the armchair across from them, watching as Ziva curled up on the sofa in her brother's arms. The room at the end of the hall was cozy, private, just as Ziva wanted. Surprisingly, there weren't that many women in the center- it could have something to do with the fact that most babies usually weren't born until about the eight or nine a.m., so Ziva pretty much had the place to herself, and the staff periodically checked on her to make sure she was okay or if she needed anything.

When they'd gotten to the center, Ziva had brought a few books she was working on to read when she had time, a few pillows, blankets and some comfy clothes, though she had a feeling that as her labor progressed, she'd be shedding clothing as opposed to putting more on, and a few snacks- dried fruit mainly, as well as nuts and surprisingly, candied ginger- something that was Rivka's remedy to help deal with stress; Ziva remembered her mother always having a few pieces of the wrapped treat in her purse, that she'd suck on over the course of the day if she got stressed or exhausted. And since Rivka had told her that she'd had the sweet during both her pregnancies and labors, Ziva figured she'd use it too; after all, she liked the taste of candied ginger, as opposed to Tali, who detested it. So by now, the room was as cozy as it could be, with the temperature at a warm ninety-eight degrees, not that Ziva really cared at that moment.

Dressed in a pair of fleece pajama bottoms and one of his t-shirts, her hair pulled back in messy bun, she was as comfortable as she could get with her body going through the contractions that would lead to the birth of their son. Tim slid an arm around Ziva's waist, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her head. "How you doing, sweetheart?"

His wife took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. "They're... they're starting to get stronger." She hissed, sitting up and shifting. "I can't get comfortable."

"Do you want to try walking around?" She shook her head, shifting down until she was lying on the sofa, her head in Tim's lap, using her arm as a pillow. Sarah glanced at her brother; she remembered the pain she'd gone through when in labor with her daughter- and though hers hadn't been the hours-long process of going through intense contractions as her daughter moved down her birth canal and out into the world, the pain had been enough to drive her to murder. No, once the bleeding had started, Sarah's contractions had come hard and fast and violently, stealing her breath away and stopping all forms of time. They had wasted no time in moving her daughter into her birth canal and out of her body, and, much like Ziva's situation, it was impossible to get comfortable.

"Try and take a nap, Ziva, get some rest if you can. It's gonna be a while and you're gonna be going through a lot." Her sister-in-law nodded, closing her eyes and trying to get some sleep. When it seemed that she'd dozed off, Tim turned his gaze to his sister, though he continued to stroke his hand through her hair and down her back.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I can't imagine how hard this is for you being here, watching her go through this." The younger McGee shrugged, waving it away as she watched Ziva wrap her arm around her belly. The Israeli whimpered softly in her sleep, pulling her knees to her chest and folding tighter around her belly in her sleep. Tim whispered softly to his wife, stroking his hand up and down her back before moving down and gently massaging along the curve of her hip. His wife's whimpering got louder, and she shifted again, settling down briefly at the feel of Tim's fingers working on her hip. "I can only imagine what she's experiencing, what she's gonna be going through soon."

"It'll be worth it, Timmy. It'll all be worth it." Sarah met his gaze. "Trust me."

He sighed, nodding silently as he turned his attention back to his wife. She wrapped her arm tight around her waist, burrowing closer to her husband pressing her chin to her chest. "Shh, easy, Ziva. Easy. It's okay, sweetheart." He returned to working on her back, before pressing firmly against her hip, running his knuckles gently and firmly along her hip and the base of her back. His wife shifted again, her whimpering becoming more pained and high-pitched as she tried pulling her knees closer to her chest, even though her belly prevented it.

Minutes later, however, her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head, struggling to catch her breath. Sarah was on her feet in an instant. "Ziva, sis, what's wrong?" It took a few seconds for the woman to catch her breath, but when she did, she pushed herself up, keeping her free arm around her belly. "Ziva, honey, talk to us."

The Israeli closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath and release it, even as her face screwed up in pain. She whimpered. _"Oh God... they hurt... mmhm... Sarah... go get Jeanne... please..."_ Once her sister-in-law was gone, Ziva curled into Tim's chest, tangling her fingers in his shirt with a sob.

"What can I do, sweetheart? Hmm, what can I do for you?" She shook her head, burying her face in his shirt and wincing.

"Don't let me go." He pressed a kiss to her head.

"I'll only let you go when you tell me to."

She quickly shook her head. "No, never, Tim."

He chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to her head and holding her closer. "Never, sweetheart. I promise."


	68. Chapter 68

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"She's in the first stage of active labor, which is the latent phase."

"Latent phase?" Tim raised an eyebrow as he helped Ziva off the bed where Jeanne had checked her progress; the laboring young woman wrapped her arms around her husband, leaning against him. Instinctively, Tim slid his arms around her waist, one hand rubbing firmly yet gently along the base of her spine and over her hips. Ziva groaned softly, burying her face in his shirt.

Jeanne nodded. "There are two stages- the latent stage and the active stage of active labor. Think of it this way- the latent phase of active labor is the slower of the two stages. It's much like the prodromal phase, except the contractions she's gonna be going through now are going to be longer, they're going to be closer together, and they're going to be much stronger than they were before, and they're going to be roughly," The doctors waved her hand back and forth, thinking. "thirty minutes apart and about fifteen to thirty seconds in length."

"So what can we do?"

"Keep her spirits up. It's not uncommon for women in stage to be afraid of what's to come, and try to help her cope. She's not going to be focusing on conversation as much now, because she's going to want to put all her concentration into the dealing with the contractions, so she'll probably only want to talk in between. Keep her activity going, but don't let her overdo it. If she wants to get up and walk around, let her, but don't let her stay on her feet all the time, have her lie down and get some rest. Um... make sure she eats, because she needs to keep her energy up, and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids, and that she gets sleep when she feels like it. Try to keep her calm- Ziva's the type of woman who will overthink everything when it comes to this process, trust me, I know, I was the same, so try to keep her distracted from the pain as much as you can. And just... just be there for her, make her feel comfortable. She's not in this alone; she has both of you here to support her. I'll be back and forth to check on her; I've got a couple other patients that have come in- but if you desperately need anything, don't hesitate to come get me or one of the staff, okay?" They nodded. "I'll be back to check on her in an hour or so."

Once she was gone, Sarah turned to her brother. "Well, she's in active labor, that's good, right?"

Tim nodded, gaze moving to his wife as he began to sway with her in his arms. A moment passed, before she slowly lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "Hey sweetheart. How you feeling? Is it gone now?" She nodded, silent, slowly pulling back.

"Can I get you something, Ziva? Glass of water? Some dried cranberries? Banana chips? Chocolate?" The Israeli glanced at her sister, shaking her head.

"No." Sarah moved closer, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair away.

"Are you sure? You heard Jeanne, you have to keep your energy up."

Again Ziva shook her head. "No, I just... I just want to lie down." She moved away, going back to the sofa and slowly curling up on.

"I know what she's going through." Tim glanced at his sister. "The pain you go through when your body opens up and pushes a small... parasitic human being into your birth canal and out between your legs. It's hell. She's gonna be going through hell, Timmy, and she needs us to help her get through it."

"I just... I don't know what to do for her. I'd take all her pain away if I could-"

"You be there for her, you go to her when she reaches for you, and answers when she calls, and talk when she wants to hear your voice and hold her when she wants to feel your arms around her, and give her your strength when she feels like she has none. Like a good husband."

" _Tim-_ " The siblings turned as Ziva reached out a hand.

"Like I said," Sarah repeated, stepping behind her brother and pressing her hands to his back. "you go to her when she reaches for you, and help her through it." And without another word, she pushed her brother forward. Tim stumbled towards his wife, before turning back to his sister, who waved for him to continue. Without a word, he joined his wife on the sofa, allowing Ziva to curl into him again, her head resting once more in his lap. Sarah watched in silence as he took her hand, lacing their fingers.

"... you do the thing you were doing to my back? Please, Tim, it helped..." He whispered something softly to her, and then began gently stroking his hand up and down her back and over her hips. Once satisfied, Sarah went to the bag Ziva had brought. She rummaged around for a few minutes before pulling out a small tin.

"Hey Ziva, you want a cup of jasmine tea? I'm gonna go down to the kitchen and make a pot." She made her way to the couple, kneeling down to meet Ziva's gaze. "That sound good?" Slowly, her sister nodded, and Sarah smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to her head. "Okay. I'll be back in a few." She stood, reaching out and gently squeezing Tim's hand before slipping out of the room and heading downstairs.

It was silent for several minutes after Sarah left, before Ziva slowly released a breath and tilted her head back. He looked down at her, tilting his head to the side. "You look deep in thought. What's going through that mind of yours?" A tiny smile tugged at her lips, and she reached up, tracing a finger down his jaw.

"Tim, I'm scared."

"You have nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart. Women have been doing this for centuries; it's perfectly natural."

"That's what I'm afraid of. What if I can't do this naturally?"

"Hey, don't think that way. You can do anything you set your mind to, including this. Okay?" She nodded. "You're stronger than you think you are, Ziva."

"So are you." He furrowed a brow, though didn't question her on it.

"You want something to eat?" A moment passed before she nodded, allowing him to help her sit up. "Okay, what are you interested in?" It took a moment for his wife to reply; she closed her eyes, screwing her face up, hands resting on either side of her belly as another contraction hit. "O.. okay. Breathe, sweetheart. Remember what the books and documentaries say? Deep breaths. Focus on something other than the contraction-"

He moved closer, running his hands up and down her back and over her hips. Several minutes passed, before Ziva was finally able to relax and allow Tim to get up. Once he returned to her side, he held the bite of ginger out to her, and she took it with a smile before leaning into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.


	69. Chapter 69

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

She released a slow breath, resting her head back against Tim's shoulder. It was now six in the morning, and despite having started the latent phase of her labor, Ziva's dilation and effacement were both progressing slowly, with the contractions slowly coming in stronger with each passing hour; she'd tried to sleep, but the pain in her belly had been too much, so she alternated standing and sitting. Currently, she was leaning back against her husband, his hands laced through hers, swaying gently to the music Ziva had reminded Tim and Sarah to bring. Sarah had come and gotten Jeanne at about three that morning, and the doctor had determined that part of the problem was due to the baby not descending as he should.

 _"Oh, God..."_ She squeezed his hands, forcing herself to take a deep breath as they continued to sway. _"Tim... it hurts..."_

"Shh, breathe through it, sweetheart. That's it, that's my good girl." He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, before tightening his hold on her and resting his chin to her shoulder. She squeezed his hands, shutting her eyes tightly. "Deep breaths, that's it. You're doing good, honey."

 _"O... oh..."_ A soft whimper escaped her throat and she quickly loosened her grip on his hands, forcing herself to take a deep breath.

"Do you remember that case we had a couple years ago, the one where that baby carrier was left in front of NCIS?" She nodded once. "And... how we agreed to take care of the baby until the case finished?" Another nodded. "Remember how attached you got to the little girl? I had to give her to the grandmother, otherwise you never would have let her go." His wife let out a breathy chuckle.

"What's your... point, Tim?"

He smiled softly, his lips brushing her ear. "Well, this time, we won't have to give the baby to his grandmother unless we want a few days to ourselves." Ziva grinned, before a whimper escaped her throat. She hissed, squeezing his hands. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

 _"My... my hips."_ Sarah looked up from adjusting the camera. She hurried to her sister and brother; instantly, Ziva reached for her, wrapping her arms around the younger woman's shoulders. Sarah held her, feeling Ziva rest her head on her shoulder. _"Oh, God... it hurts."_

"What hurts?" Sarah met her brother's gaze, mouthing one word,

 _'Pressure.'_ He furrowed a brow. "The pressure on her hips... Ziva, honey, does it hurt in your back, too?" His wife nodded. "Do you want a hip squeeze, would that help?" She glanced at Tim as Ziva nodded again. "Timmy, listen to me _carefully_. Put your hands on either side of her hips, with your fingers on her hipbones," She watched as Tim did as she instructed. "Okay, now make sure you keep your hands steady, and when you rotate your palms, rotate them inward to apply the pressure, and then move them up and in. Make sure your palms are on her flesh, not her bone so you don't hurt her." Tim nodded, being gentle as he squeezed; Ziva hissed sharply, and he stopped.

"What's wrong?"

His wife whimpered, burrowing her face in Sarah's shoulder, and the younger woman nodded at him. "Do it again."

"I'm hurting her-"

"Not as much as these _contractions_ and the pressure _your son_ is putting on her pelvis! Now _do it again, Timothy_!"

He sighed, being gentle as he squeezed, and Ziva dug her nails into Sarah's shoulder, crying out. Again Tim stopped, but this time it was Ziva who spoke up. _"H.. harder... Tim... please... do it harder..."_ With a glance at his sister, Tim did as his wife asked, and after twenty minutes- with Ziva constantly asking him to apply more pressure- she was finally able to relax a little.

"Feel better?" Ziva nodded as she pulled away from Sarah, turning to her husband.

" _Toda, ahuva_." Gently, she rose up, kissing his cheek, before going to the bed and settling on it. Tim glanced at his sister, who glanced pointedly at the bed, before picking up her camera and looking through the images she'd already taken in the last few hours. Taking a deep breath, Tim took a seat on the other side of the bed before lying down and snuggling close; he slid his arms around her from behind, holding her back against his chest. Ziva snuggled into his side, lacing their fingers and pulling her knees up slightly. When the contractions started again, Tim disentangled his hand from hers, reaching down and gently pressing back and forth along her lower back. A soft whimper escaped Ziva's throat, and she squeezed his hand. _"Oh... make it stop..."_

Eventually, the pain stopped and Tim sat up, helping Ziva to a sitting position. She took a deep breath, running her hands over her belly repeatedly, taking slow breaths. "You okay?" She nodded, continuing the familiar motion for several minutes before reaching down for the bottom of the shirt she wore.

"It's hot..."

"Let me turn down the-" But Sarah grabbed her brother's wrist as he reached for the thermostat.

"It's not hot in here, Tim. It's Ziva. She's going through so much right now, she can't take the layers she's wearing." Tim turned back as Ziva quickly pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it to the end of the bed, leaving herself in only her pajama bottoms and a bra. She then returned her hands to her belly, taking another deep breath, her eyes closed. She seemed to relax- even momentarily- enough that a tiny smile briefly graced her features- one that Sarah managed to catch on film- before her features morphed and she let out a soft whimpering cry.

Tim rushed back to her, taking a seat behind her and sliding his arms around her. "Shh, hush, sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." The image of her big brother comforting his wife was one she couldn't resist, and lifted her camera.


	70. Chapter 70

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

By ten that morning, Ziva had had enough.

"I _swear to God_ , if _your son_ isn't born in the next _two hours_ , I'm going to-" She lay on the bed, digging her nails into her husband's hand as Jeanne checked her progress- again, for the fourth time in three hours. Jeanne, despite having other clients as well, made sure to come in and check on Ziva as often as possible- unless the young mother refused to see her, which had happened in the last nearly eleven hours. And seeing as they'd been there since about ten the following evening, Jeanne didn't blame her. "How far am I, Jeanne?"

The doctor removed her gloves, sighing. "You're four centimeters. Usually by the time a woman reaches four centimeters she goes into the active phase of active labor, but every woman is different. There have been first time mothers who go through a really fast active phase and deliver quickly, and then there are first time mothers who don't. It depends. But from what I can tell, it looks like this is going to be longer than you probably anticipated, Ziva."

The Israeli groaned. " _Seriously?_ "

Jeanne chuckled. "Unfortunately, it doesn't look like your little boy's ready to come out yet, and your body seems to agree; it's taking its sweet time- and that happens. There are some women- first-time and not first-time- whose labors are just slow. No rhyme or reason to it, they just are."

"Is there anything I can do to speed up labor?"

Jeanne glanced at Tim and Sarah, before turning back to Ziva. All three were exhausted, Ziva most of all, but she was fairly certain that neither of the siblings had gotten much rest, especially with Ziva and her temporarily short temper. "There are some things you can try to help speed up labor- of course, I can always break your waters-"

Ziva shook her head. "No. Not... not unless I... I absolutely-" Jeanne held up a hand.

"I understand, Ziva. Now, if you wanted to do it naturally, you could try walking or acupressure or massage. The only other one I could recommend would be nipple stimulation, however, that has a tendency to bring on exceedingly strong and painfully long contractions that oftentimes lower the baby's heart rate. I'd try some of the others, give it an hour, and if that doesn't work, then I'll break your waters, okay?" Ziva nodded.

After Jeanne left, Tim helped his wife up and off the bed. "She gave us a whole host of options, what do you want to try first?" His wife took a deep breath, meeting his gaze.

"Can you... squeeze my hips, please?" He nodded, as she reached for Sarah. They had quickly fallen into a pattern over the last several hours- Ziva would turn to Sarah for comfort as Tim squeezed her hips- she often demanded that he squeeze harder because it helped release the pressure. After several minutes, she was able to relax enough that she could release her grip on Sarah. As the young photographer quickly re-positioned the camera, Ziva went to Tim; he slid his arms around her from behind after switching to another song.

She looked up, stopping at the sight before her, a twinge of heartache tugging at her. Because of the complications, Sarah never got to birth the way she'd wanted- a natural way at a birth center, just like Ziva was doing. She hadn't gotten the chance to have Jason hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, and that she was strong and could do this, that she had to trust in herself. Instead, she'd faced a painful, heartbreaking labor, and while Jason had given as much comfort as he could, it wasn't as they'd wanted. And while she only had photographs to remember her baby girl by-

"You're doing good, sweetheart. Breathe, that's my girl. You're doing great."

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she absentmindedly reached down. Occasionally, something would draw her back to those months in Italy, when she'd felt her daughter growing and moving inside her, and she'd reach down to stroke her belly, before remembering what was no longer there. She sighed. That was why she was doing this- to give Tim and Ziva more than just photographs, but real, actual recorded memories. Ones they could watch over and over again as Amal was growing up, something they could show him- if they wanted to- to help tell of the long hours his mother had gone through to bring him into the world.

"He takes... his sweet time... like you... our son is _just like you, Timothy_..." She leaned her head back against his shoulder as the contraction passed, releasing a slow breath. Tim chuckled softly.

"He may be like me, but he's just as stubborn as you are, sweetheart." Her dark eyes closed briefly, a small smile playing across her features as Tim brushed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Ziva."

"Hmm... I love you, too." They continued to sway softly to the music, and after a moment, Sarah slipped out of the room. She moved soundlessly down the hall, passed a couple rooms near the front of the hall that were also being used by laboring mothers, and headed downstairs. Jeanne looked up from signing the paperwork for a couple who was heading home, having had their baby a few hours earlier.

"Sarah, is everything all right? Does Ziva-"

"No, I just... needed to get out of there for a while." Once Jeanne handed the paperwork to Emily, she nodded to the couple and beckoned for the younger woman to follow her into the kitchen. Without a word, she fixed another pot of jasmine tea.

"Talk to me, Sarah." The photographer sighed.

"I... my fiancé and I... we had a little girl... about... six... eight months ago."

"Oh, that's won-"

"She didn't-" Jeanne nodded realizing as she placed three cups on a small tray.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. And yet, you're here, helping Tim and Ziva welcome their son into the world. That's very brave of you." She picked up the kettle. "Tell me, Sarah, have you grieved for the death of your daughter?"

Sarah bit her lip. "I... I can't..."

"I understand." Jeanne added the tea bags to the water, and then picked up the tray. "You know, my grandmother had a saying: A child born and died on the same day had two purposes- one in their life and one in their death. Now, the one in her life was to open your eyes to all that's beautiful and in need of nothing in the world. And the one in her death," Jeanne held the tray out. A moment passed before Sarah took it. "The one in her death was to open your _heart_ to all that is broken and in need of a little _compassion_ in this world." She gave the younger woman a small smile. "Now, take that back upstairs. I'm sure you'll all appreciate it. Tell Ziva I'll be up as soon as possible; I have another patient I have to check on."

Sarah nodded and left, Jeanne's words buzzing in her head like in a hive.


	71. Chapter 71

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"So, it's noon and we just learned that Ziva is in the _active_ stage of active labor. So... _hopefully_ , that means my nephew will be here soon."

" _Shut. Up. Sarah!_ " Ziva let out a cry as the contraction grabbed her around the waist; Tim was sitting on the edge of the sofa, with Ziva in a dangling position between his legs, which helped to further open up her pelvis more. By then, of course, she'd also completely forgone the pajama bottoms she'd worn when labor started, preferring her underwear and bra, but as it got closer to her actually giving birth, those too would eventually go as well. She rested her hands on Tim's knees, squeezing her eyes shut as she dug her nails into the material of his pants.

"Breathe, Ziva. Deep breaths, remember?" Slowly, the mother did as told, choking on a gasp as the contraction reached its peak before slowly ebbing away. As she caught her breath, Tim pressed a kiss to her head. "Good girl, Ziva. That's my girl, easy."

"Do you want some water, honey?" Ziva shook her head, reaching down a hand to rest it against her belly. "Ziva, you _have_ to stay hydrated." Again she shook her head.

"Take a couple sips, honey. You don't have to drink all of it, just a few, okay? That's all Sarah and I are asking." A moment passed before she finally nodded, allowing Sarah to help her, since she refused to loosen her grip on her husband's knees. Though eventually she did, reaching out for Sarah and throwing her arms around her sister's shoulders. Sarah, for her part, wrapped her arms around her, holding tight to her and nodded for her brother to start squeezing her hips. Once the pressure left, Sarah pulled away, meeting Ziva's gaze.

"Hey, you're doing good, Mommy. You're doing real good." Without a word, Ziva wrapped her arms around Sarah's shoulders once more, whimpering in pain.

Eventually, Tim and Sarah were able to get Ziva to her feet, and the laboring mother wrapped her arms around her husband's shoulders, resting her head on his chest. The soft music they'd brought was on repeat, and Ziva to briefly relax as he rubbed her back. She tightened her grip as a contraction began, and Tim continued to sway with her, whispering softly to her, rubbing her back. She choked on a cry as the contraction began to peak, letting out a sob as it eventually released her from its grip.

"Shh, sweetheart. You did good. You got through it, like you're supposed to." She whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder. "Keep breathing sweetheart, and whenever you want to change positions let me know." They stayed that way for several minutes, before Ziva slowly pulled away.

"Do you want some more tea, sis? Would that help? Hmm? Maybe that would help calm you down." But she shook her head, going to the bed. "You want to lie down?" Another shake of her head. "Well, Ziva, honey, I don't know what you're- oh." Sarah stopped when she watched Ziva get down on her hands and knees. "Your back killing you?" Her sister nodded, too focused on breathing to reply verbally. "Timmy, can you go get Jeanne?"

Without a word, she watched her older brother go to the door before making her way towards her sister-in-law. _"No!"_ Both siblings stopped as Ziva lifted her head, meeting her husband's gaze. _"Don't leave me... please, Tim don't leave me, you promised... you said you wouldn't leave-"_ He returned, kneeling in front of her and gently taking her face in his hands.

"Ziva, honey listen to me. I'm just going to go get Jeanne, okay? I'm gonna go get Jeanne and then I'll come right back, okay. Sarah's gonna be here with you, and I won't be gone that long. Okay, honey?" He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead before getting up and slipping out of the room. Another contraction began, and Ziva tried to focus, tried to put all her energy into getting through the contraction, into rocking her hips back and forth to relieve the pressure, but found that she could only focus on Tim and when he'd be back, the feeling of abandonment- thanks to the emotional wringer her psyche was being put through due to the labor- gripping every part of her.

"Hey, hey, listen to me, _Ziva_." Sarah continued rubbing circles on her sister's back. " _Ziva_ , Tim is coming back, he just went to get Jeanne, remember?" Ziva shook her head. "Yes, he did. He'll be back in a few minutes and we'll get you checked out, see if everything's going good, okay?"

But the Israeli shifted positions, until she was squatting, her back against the side of the bed. Silently, Sarah moved until she faced her sister, reaching out to take her hands. "He left."

"He'll be right back. He told you so himself."

"He didn't come back."

"Sweetheart, he's coming back. You just have to give him time."

She shook her head. _"I have, Sarah! And he's not coming back! He's never... never coming back... it's not... him... it's not... not the man I... married..."_

Minutes passed as Sarah tried to figure out what she was talking about- or rather, who- when suddenly it dawned on her. "Timmy? Ziva, are you... talking about the accident?" The other woman nodded, taking a deep breath. "Ziva... sweetie... Timmy _loves_ you. He would never leave you, he would never _allow_ himself to leave you. And... why are you thinking about this _now_ , you're _in labor_! Honey, your son is going to out of you and into the world soon, you need to focus on him and not on Tim's amnesia. That can wait, but Amal can't."

"But-"

Slowly, Sarah reached over, taking her hands. "No buts, Ziva. This is Amal's day, it's his time to be born, you need to let this worry about Timmy go and focus on getting ready to push your son out. Okay? I know it's hard when you've been trying to bring back the person you love for months, but now is not the time. Now is Amal's time, sweetheart."

Ziva wrapped her arms around Sarah's shoulders, sobbing. She looked up when Tim and Jeanne entered, the doctor having come from just delivering another baby. "Okay, come on, let's get her on the bed so I can check her progress."


	72. Chapter 72

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 67, DS2010 for reviewing 67, 68, 69, 70 and 71, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 67, 68, 69, 70 and 71.**

 _Six centimeters. Your wife is six centimeters dilated, and there's nothing you can do for her but tell her that she's doing good. Can't take away her pain, can't magically make your son appear-_

"Tim?" He looked up, his thoughts broken as Ziva lifted her head from his shoulder, her outburst from earlier completely forgotten by three in the afternoon as the pain once more took control. She met his gaze, taking a deep breath as they continued to sway to the music. "I... l..." He smiled softly at her.

"I love you, too." A nod met him, before she leaned close, catching his lips in a soft kiss. They continued to sway for several minutes before she pulled away, going to the bed and slowly lowering herself to her knees. "Another one?" She nodded, breathing through the pain as Tim joined her, rubbing circles along her lower back. Just when Ziva thought she would be able to rest in between, another one hit just the first was starting to fade away. It caught her so off-guard she let out a scream, burying her face in the blanket of the bed she grasped. "Easy, honey, breathe. Breathe through it."

"They're camel-backs." Tim turned to Sarah as she joined him, having gotten a bowl of water and a wash cloth from the bathroom. She began dabbing at Ziva's neck and shoulders, the warm water an attempt to calm her sister down.

"Camel what?"

"Camel-back contractions- where one contraction hooks onto the first before the first one's officially finished. I had them when I went into labor with Shanti. They're absolutely horrible, and usually last the entire active labor phase before transition. Sometimes they even go through the transition until a woman starts to give birth- at least, they did for me." She dipped the cloth in the water again, ringing it out and dabbing at Ziva's forehead. "Shh, I know, Ziva. Trust me, sis, I know. They hurt. They're absolutely horrible."

Another scream escaped Ziva's throat, before the former Mossad assassin burst into tears. Tim instantly pulled away; he'd never seen his wife cry- not that he remembered actually- and it startled him. _"Stop! Make it..."_

"Shh, honey." Sarah glanced at her brother. "Tim, go start the shower, maybe that'll help her cope with the pain." But Ziva shook her head. It hurt to much to move. "Ziva, I think a shower might help with the pain." But her sister violently shook her head, another scream ringing through the room as another contraction caught the tail of the last. "Okay, we won't move right now. When you feel better then we'll move into another position, okay?" She glanced back at her brother. "Go get Jeanne. _Go get Jeanne, Timmy, now_!" Without a word, Tim bolted from the room, doing as his sister ordered. "Timmy's getting Jeanne, Ziva, okay? I'm here. I'm right here." She scooted closer, continuing to dab at Ziva's sweat-soaked skin.

When Tim and Jeanne returned, Ziva had shifted, sitting back against Sarah, who held tight to the older woman; she continued to dab at her skin, whispering softly to her, one mother to another. "Ziva," Jeanne knelt down until she was eye level with the laboring young mother. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you up on the bed and check you out, okay?" Ziva nodded, allowing them to help her up.

As she settled on the bed, Jeanne pulled on a pair of gloves, before gently parting her legs. As she worked, Ziva reached over, grabbing Tim's wrist and digging her nails into his hand, a contraction grabbing her around the waist and taking control. Ziva let out a scream, and Tim swallowed, watching as his wife's belly contracted with the force of the pain. "I... didn't know you could..." Jeanne looked up, chuckling softly.

"Contractions are very visible, especially as labor progresses. When doctors use the cardiotocograph transducer to measure the fetal heartbeat and the uterine contractions externally, that's what they're monitoring and watching- the contractions. And usually, when a doctor is feeling around on the mother's belly during one, that's what they're feeling, the contracting of the uterine wall and the distance between each." Tim nodded, as Jeanne turned back to the task at hand.

"She dilating, Jeanne?" Sarah asked. Jeanne met her gaze.

"So far, she's six and a half centimeters. I think a big reason is because Ziva's nervous and she's stressed and upset and frightened, and that's impeding her progress. We need to keep her calm and relaxed and focused on the labor. Especially now. Okay? So we keep her calm and as relaxed as humanly possible right now, and with any luck, you little boy will be born soon." After Jeanne left, Tim and Sarah helped Ziva to the sofa, sitting on either side of her.

"Did Jeanne break your waters, Ziva?" The laboring woman shook her head, digging her nails into Sarah's hands as Tim worked on her back.

"She doesn't want her to."

"Unless she has to." Sarah finished what her brother didn't say, recognizing something she herself had wanted if she hadn't gone into labor so early. She turned her gaze back to her sister, as Ziva leaned forward, resting her head against Sarah's shoulder. The young woman burst into tears, pained sobs wracking her small body as the contractions continued and the siblings shared a look over her shoulder. "You're doing good, Ziva." The Israeli shook her head, letting out a choked scream as the contraction got worse. " _Yes_ , you are, Ziva. You're doing really good, really, really good."


	73. Chapter 73

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

"Eight hours. Is it common for a woman's labor to last _this_ long?" Sarah met Tim's gaze, after glancing at the time on her phone.

Eleven-thirty p.m.

"I wouldn't know. My labor was fairly fast. I went from active labor to transition to pushing in the course of four hours. I never got to experience the typical natural labor." Tim sighed, noticing how these last couple days seemed to age his sister overnight. A moment passed, until Ziva came out of the bathroom, and Tim got up, going to her. She slid her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder and taking several deep breaths. He slid his arms around her waist, running a hand up her back and down over her hips as they began to gently sway back and forth. Tim, having easily fallen into the role required of him, made sure that he was always available whenever Ziva needed him.

Sarah sighed, adjusting the video camera from its new position; she stopped, however, hearing the familiar lullaby her brother was humming- the song their mother used to sing to them when they were both babies. A small smile tugged at her lips; it seemed only fitting that one of their children grow up hearing the lullaby- and since her daughter was dead...

Sarah quickly shook herself free of the notion. No, there was no reason to think that way. Amal was just as important as Shanti.

Ziva let out a groan, pulling away. "Sarah, can you- get the stool." She nodded, rushing to get the birthing stool the center had in each room. Once it was settled in front of the sofa, Tim helped his wife sit before taking a seat on the edge of the across from her so that she was facing him, nestled between her legs. With the stool being slightly lower than the sofa, Ziva reached over, folding her arms around his neck, and resting her head against his chest as he pulled her closer, allowing her to snuggle into his chest. His hands worked up and down her back, rubbing her hips and pressing in to help relieve the pressure.

His wife whimpered, burying her face in his chest as the contraction continued-

She pulled away, resting her hands on her husband's knees, head hanging as a groan escaped her throat- one that soon turned into a bellow that sent Tim's heart jumping for his throat. He moved to continue stroking her back, and when the contraction finally passed, Ziva collapsed against him, gulping in air. She was shaking and coated in sweat, her dark hair clinging to her skin. When another contraction camel-ed onto the last, she burrowed into his chest, fresh sobs clambering up her throat. "Sarah, go get Jeanne. _Now!_ "

Once his sister was gone, Tim turned back to his wife. "Shh, it's okay, Ziva. I've got you. I'm right here." She shook her head.

 _"No... you're not..."_

He slid his arms around her, gently rocking them back and forth in an effort to help her hips loosen further and calm her down. "Yes, I am, sweetheart. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, I promised, and I'm going to keep it."

Again, she shook her head. _"No... not... mine... not... my... Tim..."_

He furrowed a brow, slowly pulling away to meet her gaze. "Ziva, sweetie, take a deep breath. What do you mean I'm not yours?"

She met his gaze briefly before closing her eyes and swallowing. _"You... not... not my... husband..."_

"Sweetheart, yes I am."

She shook her head, continuing to rock back and forth, tears slipping down her cheeks. _"Not... not who... who I remember..."_ A moment passed before she rested her hands on her belly, taking a deep breath. _"Not... not the father... of my son..."_ She choked on a sob, wrapping her arms around her belly and leaning forward as another contraction hit. Tim reached out to continue stroking her back- _"Don't... touch... me!"_

"Okay, Ziva, let's-" But Jeanne and Sarah stopped as the young mother lifted her head, both surprised by her outburst. Without a word, Tim got up, quickly slipping out of the room. Jeanne nodded for Sarah to go after him while she took care of Ziva, and after a moment, she did so.

"Tim? _Timmy!_ " She found her older brother in the hallway, near the stairs. "Timmy?" He looked up, tears in his eyes.

"What am I doing wrong, Sarah?" The photographer stepped closer, being cautious, not wanting to spook her brother.

"Nothing, Timmy. You're not doing anything wrong."

"Then _why does she think I am, Sarah_? Why does Ziva seem to think that I'm not who I was before the accident? Like just now- she told me that..." He took a deep breath. "That I'm not the father of that baby... that he's not my son, because... because I'm not the man _she remembers_..."

"Timmy-"

"Yes, I have amnesia, but _it's getting better_!" He stopped, something dawning in his eyes. "Or... at... at least... I... I thought it was." When he met his sister's gaze she realized what he'd been fighting doing for so long: giving up. She rushed to him, taking his face in her hands.

"Timmy, listen to me. Ziva doesn't know what she's say, okay? She's been in labor for the last several hours, and she's in a lot of pain. That much pain- that _kind_ of pain- makes a woman say things that she normally wouldn't. I know, I said things to Jason that I would _never_ say in a _million_ years, had I been in my right mind at the time. She _doesn't mean it_ , Tim. Amal is your _son_ -"

"No, he's not." He pulled away. "He belongs to the man I was _before_ the accident-"

"Oh, _Timmy_. It doesn't _matter_ to Amal if you're the man you were before the accident or if you're the man you are now. All that matters is that you're there to welcome him into the world, and love him and raise him from the moment he leaves your wife's womb. So whatever Ziva says, at the moment, she may mean it, but it's the pain talking, Timmy. That's all it is, it's just the pain talking."


	74. Chapter 74

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Sarah had to push her brother back into the room, and forcefully- gently, but forcefully- walk him over to the bed where Ziva sat propped against the pillows; Tim noticed that- obviously with Jeanne's help- she'd removed her underwear, remaining in only her bra. As soon as she saw him, Ziva brightened, reaching out for him. _"Tim-"_ He glanced back at his sister, who nodded, but when he didn't move, Sarah bumped him quickly with her hip, causing him to stumble. After a moment, he took a seat beside her on the bed, pulling her slowly into his arms, watching as Jeanne quickly checked her progress.

"She's eight and a half centimeters and eighty percent effaced."

"Which means?"

"All she has is transition and once she transitions, then she can begin pushing."

"And then... he'll be here." Ziva breathed, resting her head against his shoulder. He glanced down at his wife; she smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush her fingers along his jawline. "I... love you, Tim." The soft kiss seemed to calm Tim, and he caught her hand, kissing her palm. A moment passed, before Ziva pushed herself up, reaching for her husband. "I need..."

"What do you need, sweetheart?"

She bit her lip before crawling towards the edge of the bed; Tim and Sarah managed to help her down and away from the bed before she collapsed, but soon the laboring woman sank to the floor in the center of the room, shifting to her hands and knees and rocking back and forth, a bellow escaping her throat. _"Oh... God..."_

Tim turned back to Jeanne, who sighed. "She's transitioning." He swallowed, glancing back at his wife, suddenly pale.

"That means it... it'll happen soon, right? The baby'll be born soon?"

Jeanne followed his gaze. "Honestly, Tim, it depends on Ziva's body and how quickly she goes through transition. If her transition speeds up her dilation, yes. But it's up to Ziva's body, not us." He nodded, going to his wife.

Two hours later, Ziva was sitting on a birthing stool, with Tim sitting on the sofa directly across from her; she leaned against him, one arm tight around his neck, the other hand tangled tight in his shirt. She'd removed her bra, and felt uncomfortable in any and every position except for the one she was currently in. Tim held her, whispering softly to her as Jeanne pushed on her hips to help relieve the pain during transition. The lights had been dimmed and the music was soft, and it was relatively quiet, with the exception of Ziva's reactions to the contractions- and Sarah's commentary.

"Well, it's... two hours later- making it one-thirty in the morning- and Ziva's right in the middle of transition. Means their little Amal should be here soon and then-"

 _"Shut up, Sarah!"_

Well, occasional commentary.

After a moment, Sarah set the camera back on the tripod- she'd been moving it at various times, getting good angles and views like every good photographer- and hurried to take over for Jeanne so the doctor could monitor Ziva's progress and make sure everything was okay with the baby. Taking her place behind her sister-in-law, she gently pressed on her hips before getting firmer and firmer, finding the familiar pattern they'd been in all day. About halfway through the next hip squeeze and camel-ed contractions, Ziva let out a scream that quickly morphed into a high-pitched, not-quite-glass-shattering-almost-operatic squeal.

 _"No! Too hard... too hard... no..."_ She burst into tears, digging her nails into Tim's shoulder.

"I know it hurts, Ziva, but you need to let me squeeze to relieve the pressure! And you need to breathe _through the contraction_ at the _same time_!" Sarah replied, continuing despite her sister's protests. Those protests eventually turned into begging for the one thing Ziva seemed to fear more than being captured alive.

 _"I want to go to the hospital!"_

"No, sweetheart, you don't." Tim whispered, stroking her hair.

 _"I do! I want an epidural... oh, God, I can't do this!"_ She let out a scream, burying her face in Tim's shoulder, biting down on his shoulder as the pain got worse.

"Yes, _you can, Ziva_! You've been doing this for the last several _hours_ , and you're almost done! You're doing good, sis! You're doing really, really good!"

But the laboring woman shook her head, even as she tilted her head back and let out a bellow as the contractions got worse _. "I can't do this... please... don't make me... I don't want to... I want to go to the hospital... oh, God..."_

"You're doing really well, sweetheart." Tim brushed a kiss to her temple even as Ziva shook her head. "Yes, you are. Listen to me, Ziva, you're strong, you can get through this, you _are_ getting through this." His wife let out another strong bellow, completely focused on only the contractions running through her body-

Suddenly the contractions got ten times more intense.

 _"Oh... o..."_

Tim and Sarah shared a glance.

Her waters broke.

 _"Oh, God..."_

"Ziva, can you sit up for me really quick?" The younger woman shook her head, even as she did as asked. Sarah quickly got up and backed away, retreating back to the camera so Jeanne could talk to her sister.

 _"Oh... I need something... I change my mind... I need..."_ She let out a scream as Tim got up, allowing Jeanne to examine her. _"No, don't leave me..."_

"I'm right here, sweetheart." He moved behind her, sliding his arms around her and letting his wife lean back against him. Jeanne quickly checked her, giving her a small smile.

"Ziva, honey, you're fully dilated and completely effaced." She let out a cry, leaning her head back against his shoulder. Near delirious thanks to the pain, she looked up at her husband, but spoke to Jeanne.

 _"What does that mean?"_

"It means," The doctor waited a moment for the mother to calm down before she spoke so she'd be heard. "Ziva, listen to me." The mother swallowed, taking a deep breath. "It means that you're about to start the second stage of your labor."

"What... stage?"

Jeanne smiled softly at her. "Giving birth."


	75. Chapter 75

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 72, 73 and 74, mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 74, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 72, 73 and 74.**

She took a deep breath, resting her head against his shoulder, her hands tangled in his. Tim had returned to his place on the sofa, and Ziva was dangling between his legs; the contractions had eased up, shifting from dilating to pushing contractions, though Ziva felt no urge to push at the moment. He brushed a kiss to her hair, whispering softly to her, trying to keep her mind on something other than the current situation.

"Remember when we started talking about making a baby?"

She nodded slowly, too focused on gathering her strength to notice the importance of his question. A small smile tugged at her lips, and she reached down, laying her hands on her belly. "We... tried... for two years and..." She let out a groan, laying her head back against him.

"Didn't even tell your parents until last fall."

A groan escaped her throat, and she took a deep breath, nuzzling her nose against his chin.

"They were... so happy..."

Sarah watched her brother and his wife, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. Though Tim had his fears, seeing Ziva in so much pain put them all on the back-burner for him, and he focused solely on her, on making sure she had the support she needed at the moment. And now that it was the latent phase of the second stage-

"They've been through a lot, your brother and his wife." She turned, meeting Jeanne's gaze with a soft nod. "You know, when your brother was brought into the ER that night... honestly, I took one look at the damage from the accident and thought, 'there's no possible way someone could survive this'. The odds of surviving being hit head on and going through two windshields just... it's nonexistent. It doesn't happen, surviving that type of crash. And then he slipped into the coma, and I figured, you know, give his body time to heal, and then I met Ziva, when she came in that night, barreling into the intensive care unit in tears. And all I did was look at her and say, 'You're pregnant, aren't you?' and she nodded, and I could have kicked myself."

"How did you know she was pregnant?"

"Because I've dealt with accidents like this before, but this was the most secure case. There was a hit and run accident I worked on a few years ago, and his wife reacted just the same- I've just... a woman who's pregnant and who discovers her husband has been in a bad accident or fallen into a coma... they react differently. More severely."

"Because of the excess hormones."

They briefly turned back to the couple, before Jeanne continued. "The fact that your brother was married made it hard, the fact that he had a baby on the way too-" She shrugged. "I have a degree in both obstetrics and neurosurgery- I'm used to bringing life into the world and saving it, but... but I've never gotten used to telling someone their loved one might not wake up. But this-" She shook her head. "Your brother defied the odds, on everything. He could have come out with severe brain damage, could have lost his sight, his hearing, could have been on a ventilator for the rest of his life, or been paralyzed from the neck down or he could have ended up in a wheelchair... or it could have killed him on impact."

"So losing his memory was the best thing that could have happened."

"Yeah." She turned back to the couple, watching them for several minutes. "Ziva could very well have found herself a widow with only his child as that last reminder of him. So really, Tim's surviving that accident is a miracle. He might have lost any memory of his wife and son, but that doesn't mean he's not trying to remember them."

"So... this... today, it's... it's good.. for Tim?" Jeanne thought a moment, before nodding.

"Yes, absolutely. And I think, what's happening is that your brother is remembering things- little things, but still, things- without even realizing it. It's slowly becoming automatic."

"So like... muscle memory... for his brain?" The doctor nodded.

"With victims of amnesia, things that seem familiar to them- a kiss, a touch, a smile- will often bring back the strongest memories, but those memories often won't appear for days, especially if there's major stress taking place."

"And having a baby is the ultimate in major stress." Sarah finished, and Jeanne nodded. "Hey, Dr. Beniot? Do you think after the baby's born, that... that Tim's memory will come back?"

The doctor sighed. "It depends."

"What do you mean?"

"It depends on Tim's mind. It depends on if it wants to take the risk of remembering everything or if it would just rather remain in that fog. It's all up to him-" Ziva let out a cry, leaning her head back against his shoulder, and both women rushed back; Sarah held the camera in her hands, watching as Jeanne knelt beside the laboring woman. "Ziva. Ziva, look at me." Slowly, the woman lifted her head, meeting her doctor's eyes. "Talk to me, do you feel the urge to push?" She shook her head.

"It hurts..."

"What hurts, sweetie?" Tim whispered, brushing a kiss to her head.

She let out a moan, shaking her head. _"I can... I can feel him..."_ She choked on a sob _. "move... moving... oh, God, it hurts..."_

"Okay, Ziva, I'm gonna check you real quick. All right? So just stay calm and relaxed-" She nodded as Jeanne got up and quickly grabbed a pair of gloves before returning.

"Tim, it _hurts_..." He squeezed her hands gently.

"I can feel his head; Ziva, he's right there. Honey, do you hear me?" Ziva nodded slowly at Jeanne, eyes closed. "He's come down your birth canal and he's right there, he's getting ready to come. Pretty soon he's gonna start crowning, and once he's crowned, then you can start pushing okay?"


	76. Chapter 76

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Ziva let out a moan, resting her head on Tim's shoulders. Her dark hair clung the her neck and back, having come out of the messy ponytail it was in, and she glistened in sweat. She was shaking, every muscle in her small body as taut as a piano string. She groaned, shifting on the birthing stool she was seated on. _"Oh, I can feel him moving closer... oh God..."_ She let out a deep breath, digging her nails into Tim's arms. He sat on the sofa behind her, his chest against her back and his arms around her, hands resting on her belly.

"Keep breathing, sweetheart." She whimpered. "Remember what Jeanne said? You're almost done? After he crowns you can start pushing and then he'll be here."

She shook her head, nuzzling into his neck, exhausted. _"No... he's never coming out..."_

Tim chuckled softly, continuing the gentle stroking of her belly; the movement- so familiar to both her and the baby for all those months- seemed to calm Ziva and help relax her. "Amal doesn't have a choice in this, Ziva. He's coming out, we know it, and he knows it. He's just..."

"Being... _stubborn_."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her head. "Taking his time."

"Just like his... _Abba_." She took a deep breath, resting her head against his shoulder again as Jeanne came back over and checked her progress. The doctor gave the younger woman a smile as she knelt before her.

"I can see his head, Ziva." The young mother moved away from her husband, sitting up, resting her hands on her knees as she spread her legs a little more.

"You can?" Jeanne nodded, glancing up at her before she glanced back down.

"I could. And then he slipped back inside."

Ziva swallowed thickly. "What? _Why?_ "

But just as Jeanne opened her mouth to reply, Sarah, who'd been sitting close by, filming the conversation between her brother and sister, laughed softly, causing the others to turn to her. She had since moved the camera down to between Ziva's legs, after asking her sister's permission, of course. Not that Ziva cared how close Sarah got- as long as the birth of their son was on film. "He appears and then disappears again. I think he's playing with you, Ziva." Her sister furrowed a brow.

 _"What?"_

Sarah met her gaze. "Amal just wants to play, Ziva. That's all."

The Israeli groaned. _"Amal... has been... playing long enough..._ I don't want him to _play, Sarit_. I want him to come _out._ "

"He will Ziva, don't worry. He'll come out, he has no choice." Jeanne replied, checking her quickly. Ziva hissed, leaning back once more against Tim's chest, her breathing heavy as the pain got worse. She didn't see how her mother could go through this twice- _she_ couldn't even handle it _now_.

 _"Oh... oh God, it burns..."_

"That's because he's starting to crown, Ziva. He's stretching the labia so that he can come out and into the world. Just breathe through it- nice deep breaths, that's it, that's a good girl."

She choked out a gasp, taking a deep breath, struggling to get through the pain as the baby continued to stretch-

"And there's his head again. He's starting to finally crown. Ziva, do you want to see?" She nodded, exhausted, as Jeanne got up to grab a small mirror. Sarah moved a little closer.

"There's the _baby_. He's got a head of hair- oh, Timmy, you're gonna be the daddy a beautiful curly-haired little boy! He's gonna be like his Mommy with those dark curls." She briefly moved the camera up to her sister-in-law's face, but Ziva had her eyes closed and was trying to breathe. "You're doing good, Ziva." She backed away as Jeanne returned, holding the mirror down at an angle, and Ziva slowly opened her eyes. A soft gasp escaped her throat at the sight reflected in the mirror.

"That's our son?" Jeanne nodded, as Ziva tilted her head back. "Tim-"

"I know, sweetheart, I see him." He pressed a firm kiss to her head. "He's beautiful."

"He is not even fully _born_ yet, Timothy-"

"It doesn't matter, Ziva. He's absolutely beautiful."

Briefly closing her eyes, Ziva turned her head, capturing Tim's lips in a kiss. _"That's our son..."_ Her whisper was soft, breathy from exhaustion. _"That's our Amal..."_

"I know, sweetheart."

She turned back to the mirror Jeanne held, and the reflection of their baby's head. "That's our little Amal..." She stared at the image on the mirror and then let out an exhausted laugh. _"Oh God, look at that hair!"_ She choked on a sob as Tim reached up, running a hand through her own loose dark curls. "He's going to be fighting those curls for the rest of his life..."

Sarah snorted softly. "If they're anything like Timmy's were when he was little... good luck."

"Ziva, do you want to feel your son's head?" She nodded, and after a moment, reached down, a gasp escaping her throat when she felt the soft mound of the baby's head against her fingers.

 _That's my son. After all these months, I finally get to touch my son._

But something Sarah said caught Ziva's attention, and she turned to her husband. "You had curly hair." Her husband blushed, before turning green daggers to his sister.

"What? Just because _you_ grew out of your curls, doesn't mean Amal will." But the conversation quickly ended as Ziva rested her head on Tim's shoulder, the burning sensation returning as the baby continued to crown.

"Ziva, you need to take deep breaths, okay?" She nodded, reaching up to take Tim's hand and squeezing. "Keep breathing, no pushing, are we clear?"

"You're doing good, sweetheart." Tim pressed a firm kiss to her head, whispering softly as he continued to rub her belly. Ziva nuzzled into his neck, the feel of his fingers stroking against her skin helping to keep her calm. Finally, Jeanne looked up, a smile on her face.

"Okay, Ziva, listen to me. His head's out-"

"Completely?" She asked, lifting her head from Tim's shoulder. Jeanne nodded.

"Yeah. And I've removed the chord and everything's fine. So when you feel the next contraction, you're gonna push, okay? But _only_ when your body tells you too, are we clear?"

"C... crystal."


	77. Chapter 77

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 76, DS2010 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 75 and 76.**

 _He's almost here. My son is almost born._

The contractions were just as hard, just as painful as they'd been before, grabbing her around the waist and doing their absolute best to completely wring her dry. She let out a groan, tensing up before stopping, realizing that she was wasting her energy fighting the pain. A moment passed, before she tilted her head back, meeting Tim's gaze.

"You're doing amazing, sweetheart. Absolut-" But she cut him off, reaching up and sliding an arm around his neck, tugging him down until their lips met in a soft kiss. "Ziva-" She kissed him again, her other hand sliding into his and squeezing.

Jeanne chuckled, realizing what was going on; it was something she'd seen a dozen times before- laboring mothers finally giving in to the pain their bodies had put them through, allowing the same muscles responsible for birth- also the same ones responsible for orgasm- take over. Oftentimes, even if the labor process itself wasn't orgasmic at all, the birth would be and vice versa. And it wasn't uncommon for a woman experiencing an orgasmic birth to drag her husband into the experience- from kissing to touching and soft whispered words- anything the mother wanted at that stage was given to her.

Sarah, who'd set up the video camera again, slowly lowered the photography camera she held. "Is she-" She turned to the obstetrician, who chuckled softly at the startled look on the photographer's face. "She is... but... but I thought that was just a myth-"

"No, it's very real." Jeanne replied, going to the small bathroom and returning with towels, a few washcloths, a bowl of water and a soft bubble syringe used to clean out the baby's nose and lungs after birth. "Most often though, women don't go through it until the baby is actually being born. There are a few that have an entirely orgasmic labor, but for the most part- at least in the majority of my patients- it's the birth that's orgasmic, not the labor."

She glanced back at the couple; Ziva had slowly broken the kiss, nudging her nose against Tim's, a soft purr escaping her throat. "Are you-" She nodded, kissing him again, this one deeper than the last. Eventually, she broke contact, resting her forehead to his chin, her other hand loosening to reach up and caress his cheek. A tiny smile played on her face, and she released a soft breath, feeling the contraction run through her body- this time, not an enemy, like it had been for the last several hours, but a friend.

"Every pathway in the body that's involved in pleasure, sexually, is also involved in childbirth. Every pathway in sexual orgasm is used in childbirth, and if a woman taps into it- either from the beginning of labor or the beginning of the birthing phase- it can be... exceedingly pleasurable, and sensual for a woman. Even one who resisted as long and hard as Ziva."

Sarah bit her lip before chuckling. "Clearly you don't know the woman my brother married very well, Dr. Beniot. Ziva is..." She sighed, turning back to her brother and his wife. Ziva had leaned forward, reaching down to cradle her son's head. After a moment, she turned back, nuzzling her nose against Tim's before capturing him in a soft kiss. The birthing process was slow- and Ziva had been through a lot- but this... this was different than what the Israeli had gone through earlier, but Sarah couldn't figure out how. She turned back to Jeanne, who chuckled.

"Well, even _Ziva_ isn't immune to an orgasmic birth if she just allows herself to relax and let her body take control. She's been fighting this for the last few hours, that I think her body's finally decide enough is enough is taking control. It's telling her not to resist anymore."

"Ziva is sensual in her own right." She swallowed. "She's... always been comfortable in her own skin and... always the most comfortable around my brother. When they got engaged and started living together..." She sighed, shaking her head. "She's the only woman who can handle my brother. Amnesia or not." Sarah turned back, seeing Ziva deepen the kiss as she reached up with her free hand to cradle Tim's neck. "So this whole... orgasmic birth... it's like... what? Some sort of secret?"

Jeanne met her gaze. "It's the best kept secret in the industry." Then, without another word, she made her way to the couple, kneeling down to check her patient's progress. "You doing okay, Ziva?"

The young mother had by then broken the kiss with her husband, nuzzling her nose against his. She sighed, releasing a slow breath as she met Jeanne's gaze. _"Mhmm... oh..."_ She laid her head back against Tim's shoulder, relaxing as Tim returned to gently stroking the sensitive skin of her belly.

"Do you feel the urge to push?" A moment passed before she nodded, releasing a slow breath. "Okay, remember what I told you earlier?" Ziva nodded again. "Don't fight it, just let your body take over. It knows what to do."

With the next breath, Ziva pushed, following her body's orders. She let out a soft groan, feeling the baby shift; another push sent her resting her head back against Tim's shoulder. "Oh, he isn't coming out."

"Yes, he is, Ziva, you just need to keep pushing. He'll come, your body will make him." Jeanne quickly cleaned the baby's nose and mouth, before glancing back at her patient. "When your body tells you, Ziva."

Another moan escaped her throat as the orgasm rolled through her, moving the baby further out of her. She grunted softly as the first shoulder slipped out; a soft moan of pleasure soon following as the other shoulder followed after the first. _"Oh, God..."_

"That's it, Ziva, you're doing good. Keep listening to your body, sweetie. He's almost here."

"You hear that, sweetheart? He's almost out." Ziva reached down once more, and Jeanne gently guided her hands until she was holding her son. She took a deep breath, letting her body push as she tilted her head back.

"I love you, Timothy." He chuckled softly.

"I love you, too, Ziva." Their lips met in a soft kiss, and she then tucked her had beneath his chin, feeling another orgasm run through her. She hummed softly in pleasure, allowing the sensations she was familiar with keep control over her body. A moment passed before she shifted, removing her hands from between her legs and reaching up to take his hands and lace their fingers.

 _"Mmm... oh... God..."_

She only vaguely heard Jeanne call to her. "Ziva? Ziva, honey, open your eyes. Open your eyes, sweetie." She shook her head, too caught up in the orgasm to obey her doctor. "Yes, sweetheart, open your eyes."

A soft hum escaped her throat as she relaxed into the orgasm, leaning back against her husband, her body sinking against his, a breathy question escaping her throat. _"Why?"_

Jeanne chuckled, glancing at Sarah. "Because here comes your baby."


	78. Chapter 78

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Jeanne was right.

 _Here he comes._

With one last push, Ziva watched as their son slid out of her and into Jeanne's arms. He was then being passed into her own arms; Jeanne was resting him against her chest, and her arms were up, holding the just-born infant to her, as she was gently ordered to push once more, her body expelling the placenta in a matter of seconds. But Ziva wasn't focused on that- she was focused on the baby resting against her chest, his soft cries reaching her ears.

She looked up, tears clouding her gaze. "Tim, look... he's born... he's _finally born_..." She caught him in a firm kiss, before turning her gaze back to their son. "Oh, and he's beautiful... he's _absolutely_ beautiful..."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." He kissed her temple, his green gaze drinking in the sight of their son.

Finally, after all these months, after all the pain, all the tears and the meltdowns, he was finally out in the world, tucked tenderly into his mother's embrace. Sarah quickly handed her a damp cloth but Ziva didn't notice; Tim took it instead, gently cleaning their son of the blood and fluid he was still coated in from his entrance into the world.

"Well, it's four-forty-five in the morning," Sarah grinned, not at all surprised that her brother and his wife were fixated on their son. "and after many, _many_ hours of countless labor pain and a couple of meltdowns, guess who's finally here!" Ziva looked up at her sister, a small smile on her face. "So, Ziva, do you want to introduce the newest member of your family?"

The new mother swallowed, looking back at her son, who stared up at her with unfocused dark eyes. "This... is our little Amal. Amal Josiah McGee." Her gaze then returned to her son, as she reached up, brushing a finger against his cheek. Instinctively, the baby turned his head towards his mother's touch, and Ziva choked out a sob. A moment passed before she allowed Jeanne to weigh the baby and take his measurements; she leaned back against her husband, tilting her head back to look up at him. "He's finally here, _ahuva_."

They shared a soft kiss, only breaking it when Jeanne returned, laying the baby back in his mother's arms. "Is he okay, Dr. Beniot?" The older woman smiled at Tim.

"You two have a perfectly healthy baby boy- eight pounds, two ounces."

Ziva looked up, meeting her doctor's eyes. "Eight pounds?" Jeanne nodded, as her patient turned back to the baby in her arms, gently guiding the baby's mouth to her breast, hissing gently as he latched on and her milk let down. "You're a big boy, aren't you?"

Jeanne snorted softly. "Actually, most babies born today are between seven and nine pounds, so eight pounds is relatively small- especially when there are women who have babies born at ten and twelve pounds- but those are usually caused by untreated gestational diabetes." She reached out, gently rubbing a finger over the nursing infant's arm. "This little guy's at a perfectly normal weight."

Once everything was cleaned up, and they had decided to freeze and bank the cord blood- for precautionary's sake, if anything happened- Tim and Jeanne helped Ziva settle on the bed, where she'd be more comfortable. After making sure the new mother was settled and everything was good, Jeanne slipped out to grab the paperwork and give them some alone time with their son. Sarah sat on the end of the bed; she'd set the tripod up on the other side of the bed, where it continued to film, as she took as many stillborn shots of her nephew as possible with her handheld camera. Tears came to her eyes as she slowly lowered the camera, memories of Shanti flooding her mind. "Timmy, Ziva... he's beautiful."

Ziva met her gaze, and seeing the pain in her eyes, slowly lowered her gaze as Tim got up from her side. He helped Sarah up, taking her quickly out of the room so they could talk in private. Normally, Ziva would have tried to insert herself in to help, but she knew that this was one situation that Tim needed to handle on his own. The last thing Sarah needed was her sister-in-law trying to cheer her up, to comfort her- especially when that same sister-in-law had just given birth to a full-term, healthy baby-

The very real reminder of what she'd lost would most likely only send Sarah into a tailspin leading to a mental breakdown. And that was the last thing anyone needed. Yes, better to let Tim handle the tears that were inevitable as they glistened in Sarah's eyes; he was her big brother, and even though he couldn't change things or fully fix them, he could give his baby sister what Ziva couldn't.

As the door shut behind them, Ziva turned back to the infant in her arms. A small smile tugged at her features as she studied the baby; this tiny little person who'd lived inside her for the last nine months, who'd... made his father fall in love with him simply by existing, who... who was slowly, very slowly, pulling the fog from his daddy's mind and giving him back his memories...

"It's nice to finally meet you, Amal. _Abba_ and I... we've been waiting a long time..." She winced as the baby shifted against her breast, kicking her hard in the ribs. A soft chuckle escaped her throat. "I thought you would stop that once you came out, but I must have seriously been dreaming." She chuckled softly, reached up, brushing her hand over his dark head, being careful of the fontanels on her son's head. She then trailed a finger down his cheek. Yes, there were definitely elements of her husband reflected in her son-

 _I feel like I'm looking at one of Tim's baby pictures._


	79. Chapter 79

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 78, and DS2010 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 77 and 78.**

"Hey, Sarah? Sarah, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The photographer shook her head, horrified that she'd lost her cool and started to meltdown during those few precious first moments with his son. She moved to pull away, but Tim grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him. "I'm fine, Timmy. _I'm... fi..._ " She shook her head. " _I'm so sorry..._ " She curled into his chest, finally breaking down. Tim held her close, pressing a kiss to her head.

"Shh... oh, Sarah. It's not your fault; nothing's your fault. You've done nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong to blame yourself over."

 _"I... couldn't... handle..."_

"You handled it just fine, Sarah." He pressed another kiss to her head. "I can only imagine the pain you're going through... I wish to God I could take it all away."

She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder, relieved to once again feel her older brother's strong arms about her. Tim had always been there- always protected her, always listened to her. He'd been her rock when they'd had to put Marshmallow, their chocolate lab, down after he'd gotten hit by a car when she was seven, and had broken Joey Glasgow's nose when he tried to feel her up in the middle school hallway, in front of Tim's sixth-grade homeroom. He'd taken her to get her license instead of their mom, and had missed his own senior prom to be with her at the hospital when she'd missed the last three steps of the staircase at home and fallen, cracking her skull open on the banister rail on the way down; he'd taught her her times tables and helped her build her science experiments... at his mother's urging, he'd taken her with him on the few dates he'd gone on in high school, always making sure the boy she went with lived up to his standards.

And when she'd gotten her first period at twelve, she'd gone rushing to him- even though their mother would have been more appropriate- terrified that she was dying from the sight of the blood on her sheets, even though their mother had explained the process _repeatedly_ to her as she'd grown up. And when she'd snuck back into the house after a night of drinking- at sixteen- and gotten caught straddling the kitchen sink and the windowpane, it'd been Tim who'd kept her secret- even after they'd discovered that _she'd_ been the one to paint ' _Bitch_ ' on Kate Hutchinson's garage.

And when he'd come home from MIT for Christmas break that first year, he'd been the one to take her out of the house when their parents started arguing- driving all the way from Essex, New Hampshire to Manhattan so they could watch the Christmas tree light up in Rockefeller Center and have hot chocolate in Central Park; Tim had been the one who took her to get tested after an outbreak of meningitis hit the middle school her eighth grade year, and he'd given her a black and white kitten for her fourteenth birthday that she'd named Oreo. He'd gone first whenever they'd gotten vaccinations or had blood work drawn, to show her that she didn't need to be scared of the needle, and always took the green jellybeans because she didn't like them, and always picked the cherry-flavored candy canes because he knew she liked them more than peppermint.

Tim was her big brother-

He'd broken up fights for her, gotten _into_ fights for her, let her sleep in his bed whenever it rained because she was afraid of the thunder, and checked for monsters under the bed and in the closet; he'd taken her to see all seven _Harry Potter_ movies in theaters, and had lied to their parents about the navel piercing she'd gotten on their trip to India with Penny when they were in high school... he'd given her the stuffed mouse he'd gotten when he was a year old, when he left for MIT, and had written and called every day...

But when he'd come home from MIT that first summer, he'd changed in ways Sarah could never have imagined. He'd come back with a girl- a petite little blonde named Emma, who was majoring in biochemical engineering too, who wore thin little horn-rimmed glasses and spoke two languages, who'd grown up on an American naval base in Hawaii, and who'd been as sweet as Southern tea- and whom Sarah had hated instantly. Because suddenly, _she_ was no longer Tim's focus- he'd barely acknowledged her- spent practically that entire summer with Emma. And when Sarah had walked in on them having sex-

She'd reacted like a jealous girlfriend instead of a little sister; so used to having her big brother to herself. Their relationship had strained, and Tim had returned to MIT that fall, refusing to admit her even knew her, let alone was related to her; he hadn't even come to her high school graduation. They hadn't spoken until she showed up on his doorstep that night, groggy and covered in blood- by then, of course, Emma was long gone, Ziva had joined the team a year earlier, and the Mossad officer and the NCIS agent had begun sneaking around behind both Gibbs and Shepard's backs. And Sarah, being the jealous type of _any_ woman in her brother's life besides her, had _seriously_ considered going to both the team leader and NCIS director and ruining both their careers.

But then she'd seen how happy Ziva made Tim, and how she seemed to bring back the older brother Sarah had known as a child, and she'd kept her mouth shut. So when Tim had told her he was going to propose, the first thing she'd asked had been, "Ziva, right?" because the last thing she was going to do was allow the best thing in her brother's world to walk out of his life. She'd stood with them at their wedding- along with Tony and Abby- and had given the toast at the reception that night. She'd been the first one to learn that he and Ziva were trying for a baby- long before they told Ziva's family- and had spent many nights praying for a niece or nephew- and had burst into tears the first time Ziva told her the test was negative.

And then Ziva had called her when she got in at the Marco Polo Airport in Venice that day, one word rolling off her tongue, "Auntie", and Sarah had nearly dropped the phone and shattered the windows she'd been so excited- and then horrified to find out weeks later that Tim had been in a car crash, that he'd died twice on the operating table and was in a coma, barely clinging on. But by then, she and Jason had gotten serious, and she herself was pregnant- and then, just as quickly, twenty-four weeks had come and she'd lost her daughter... and Jason had taken her to Greece, where they'd lost themselves in each other, and had tried to come back from the loss of their child...

And oh, how she'd wished Tim were there, so she could crawl into his arms and he could make everything better, like he'd been able to do when they were children. But she'd come back to find he didn't remember his wife and child, and suddenly, _he_ was in need of comfort, he was in need of what she'd often sought as a child. And now his son was here, he was a father-

 _"What good am I going to be to any of you, Timmy?"_ She choked out, pulling away. _"What good am I going to be to Amal?"_

"Sarah, you're my sister. I love you, and Ziva loves you and... and you're Amal's aunt. He's going to love you no matter what you've gone through- and you're going to spoil him rotten, and love him and... and he's gonna love you more than us." She laughed softly, reaching up and taking his face in her hands. "Ziva isn't the only one who's done amazing, today, Sarah. You've done amazing, too." He pressed a kiss to her head as she curled into his arms again. "And I'm so proud of you."


	80. Chapter 80

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

Ziva looked up as the door opened as Tim came back in, Sarah holding tight to his hand. She smiled softly at the pair, before turning back to her son, gently extracting the baby from her breast and holding him to her shoulder, rubbing his back before shifting him against her chest, so he could hear her heart. "Look, Amal. That's Daddy and Auntie _Sarit_."

Sarah took a seat on the edge of the bed, sniffling. She reached over, taking Ziva's hand and squeezing gently as Tim stopped by the bed, his gaze moving to his son.

His _son_.

That tiny human being who'd been moving and shifting inside his wife's belly for the last several months was finally out and in the world...

 _And he's absolutely beautiful._

Ziva glanced down at the boy, before turning back to her husband. "Do you want to hold your baby boy, Daddy?"

But Tim suddenly tensed up, holding his hands in front of him and stumbling back. "No, no, I... I don't think I should... I um... no. That's okay. You... you can keep holding him. Or... or why not have Sarah hold him? He's her nephew."

"But he's your son, Timmy." Sarah whispered, seeing the fear in her brother's eyes. Tim shook his head.

"I just... no. I... no, he... he's not. He's not my son..." Pain filled Ziva's dark gaze, and she sighed, realizing that what she'd said while in the throes of labor had come back to haunt her... that Tim had heard and that it had sunk in. "I'm sorry." And without a word, he fled, rushing from the room and down the hallway, bumping into Jeanne as she came out of another room, looking exhausted.

"Whoa, Tim, where's the fire? Something wrong with Ziva or the baby?"

He shook his head, moving past her. "Not my son." Jeanne glanced behind her in time to see Sarah come out of the room, and after a moment, she followed after; Sarah, realizing that this was something she couldn't fix, left it to the good doctor. Jeanne found him downstairs in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

"Tim?" He glanced up at her, and Jeanne saw the chaos clouding his eyes. "Oh, Tim." Sarah had told her of what Ziva had said, even though it was said out of pain and fear, it had still been said. "She didn't mean it; when she said it, she was in a lot of pain, and a lot of her words were driven by fear. She didn't mean it seriously."

"But what if she's right?" Jeanne sighed.

"Tim, you've been through a lot. And I'm sure that what Ziva said during labor didn't help- but that's just _it_. She said it _during_ labor. She was in an _enormous_ amount of pain and wasn't thinking clearly. She didn't mean it."

"But what if she did, Dr. Beniot?" A moment passed before Jeanne moved closer, reaching out and resting a hand against his arm.

"Tim, listen to me. You've made _so much_ progress in the last few months, _do not let_ something that Ziva said while she was struggling to deal with contractions take that progress away. _Don't let it._ It's not true. You have done exceedingly well, these last few months, and if you allow something said during childbirth to set you back..." She shrugged, reaching up to brush a tear off his cheek. "You need to let yourself relax and focus on something other than the amnesia. Okay?" Slowly, he nodded. "Now, your son was just born, and I bet he's anxious to meet his daddy." She led him back up to the room, the paperwork in hand.

Once there, Tim stayed back by the door, watching as Jeanne explained the forms that needed to be filled out before they could go home. "Tim?" He met Ziva's gaze. "Tim, come meet your son." He stayed where he was. "Please." A moment passed before he slowly moved away from the door, joining them all on the bed. Slowly, gently, Ziva reached over, laying the baby in his arms before he could protest. "Yeah... that's Daddy. Are you in Daddy's arms? Yeah, you're in Daddy's arms, aren't you, Amal?" She gently brushed a hand over her son's head, before glancing at her husband. A slow, tiny smile appeared on her husband's features, as the baby looked up at him. "My two beautiful loves."

Tim met her gaze, startled by her words. "You love me? E... even after... after everything?"

"How could I not, Tim? You're my husband." She reached up, gently brushing her knuckles over his cheek. "You gave me this beautiful little boy... you're my heart... how could I ever not love you?" Then, without a word, she leaned over, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, before turning her gaze to their son. Slowly, Tim followed, looking down at the little boy in his arms and drinking him in.

He truly was beautiful, this little boy cradled in his arms. _God, he looks just like you._

Gently, cautiously, Tim reached up, brushing a finger over his son's forehead and down the bridge of his nose. Though the baby's eyes were unfocused, Amal was clearly watching him. The newborn had a head of dark curls and beautiful, chubby cheeks, like all newborns possessed, and Tim recognized his wife's gorgeous dark eyes and that cupid's bow of a mouth- clearly a feature the boy had inherited from his mother. Amal's skin was a soft mixture of both his tone and Ziva's, and Tim noticed that there was a small, bluish-colored spot on the baby's right shoulder.

After a moment, Tim turned to Jeanne. "Um... is that-"

But Ziva laid a hand on his arm, causing him to turn to her. Slowly, she turned, showing him the space on her shoulder blade. "I have it too, Tim. It's just a Mongolian spot, like the angel's kiss on your eyelid. Nothing to worry about. It won't harm Amal." She then turned back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.


	81. Chapter 81

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **A/N: Okay, so these are two reviews I'm not gonna let Zani read- 'I am done with your stories. This was the last straw. Sorry. I can't deal with the schizophrenia anymore.' and 'Really, Tim? Uck. Another story I'm going to have to stop reading.' Is your problem with me because I'm not Zani, and I'm just uploading her stories? Is it with the stories because they're _not_ Tiva- which, _newsflash_ , is _never_ going to happen on the show!- or is it just because you have nothing better to do than criticize my sister-in-law because she's going through some issues with her mental health and I'm trying to pick up the slack she dropped? Whichever it is, I don't appreciate it, and neither do Evan or Zani.- Licia**

 **Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 79 and 80, oh my for reviewing 79 and Ugh and Guest for such lovely reviews on 80. What is so wrong with Chapter 80? Or is it just that _I'm_ uploading these and not my sister-in-law?**

 _Two Days Later_

The door shut softly behind them, and after setting the car carrier down, Ziva knelt down and unbuckled their son, scooping him up and holding him against her shoulder. _"B'nee, baruch'a haba'a."_ She kissed his head, shifting until the baby was curled against her chest.

"I doubt he can understand Hebrew, Ziva. He's only two days old."

She turned back to her husband. "I don't care, Tim. Amal is going to grow up learning Hebrew, as well as English and Irish Gaelic, because that is his _heritage_ , and he deserves to be proud of where he comes from. Don't you agree?"

"Of course, but all I'm saying, is that he was born _two days ago_. Let him... get used to being outside your womb before you introduce him to new languages. He's just a baby, Ziva." He went to her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close. Though their son had been born just two days earlier, Ziva still looked about six-months along- mainly because her uterus was doing the work of shrinking back down to normal size again; Jeanne had let them both know that it would be a few weeks before she looked like her normal self again. However, to Tim, he didn't really remember what Ziva's normal self was-

He was so used to how she looked during the pregnancy, that a tiny part of him feared how he'd react after she went 'back to normal' as Jeanne had said.

And let's not forget the lochia- the postpartum bleeding common after birth. Or, as Sarah had so tastefully characterized through her laughter, "The heaviest, longest, bloodiest period you'll ever experience" of which Ziva had then reached over and slapped her, hard, upside the head. Tim had even winced.

He kissed her softly, following her into the living room as she took a seat on the sofa and quickly unbuttoned her blouse. Tim took a seat on the sofa beside her, watching as she undid her bra and shifted the baby, guiding him towards her breast. The infant latched on and began to nurse hungrily; Ziva whimpered softly- the after pains- the contractions that were working to shrink her uterus back down to normal- were painful, especially when she breastfed, and since the baby was only two days old...

On instinct, Tim reached over, gently rubbing his wife's belly, trying to help ease the pain as he'd done when she'd been in labor. She looked up, smiling softly as she reached up to caress his jaw. "I just want our son to know of the beautiful man who helped me create him." Tim forced a tiny smile, kissing her softly before pulling away; he continued gently rubbing her stomach, and the action seemed to relax his wife.

"He's beautiful, Ziva. You have a beautiful son." She glanced down at the baby before his words hit. She then furrowed a brow, looking up at him.

"He's your son, too, Timothy."

"I know, I just..." He swallowed. "Forget it." The furrow deepened, and her mouth tugged down at the corners.

"Everything okay, _ahuva_?" Slowly, her husband nodded.

"Yeah. Everything's fine." He sighed, thinking of Sarah- who had made her first appointment with Dr. Cranston the day before. A moment passed before Ziva turned back to the baby in her arms. Tim watched in silence as she reached up, taking Amal's hand in hers and stroking her thumb over it.

"How did we ever get blessed with such a beautiful little boy? Hmm?" Once the baby finished, Ziva gently removed him from her breast and held him against her shoulder, rubbing his back. Afterwards, she adjusted her hold, resting the infant on her lap, supporting his head with her hand, while she gently rubbed the boy's belly. "You are the most beautiful baby boy in all of D.C., yes you are. You have Daddy's nose, and his chin... and you're going to have his smile..." She looked up at her husband, grinning. Then, without a word, she leaned over, capturing him in a firm, loving kiss. When she finally pulled away, she turned back to Amal, who watched her with her own wide dark eyes. "You look so much like your _Abba_."

Tim watched her, wishing he could remember the night they conceived the little boy now in his wife's embrace, but whenever he tried to remember, his mind blocked it- blocked almost everything in regards to that night, in fact. Everything in regards to the accident, and Ziva...

"You okay, _ahuva_?" He snapped out of his thoughts, watching as he wife lifted the baby to her shoulder. A soft shrug met her.

"Just fine, Ziva. I'm just fine, I promise." He whispered, leaning over and brushing a soft kiss to her mouth.


	82. Chapter 82

**Rifiuto: Non Mirena**

 **Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 81, Reader aka Sun Samurai and mcgeeksgirl for reviewing 80 and 81.**

Tim was the first one up that night, his inability to sleep leaving him wide awake, as the aspirin his wife had taken an hour earlier after the boy's last feeding, for the discomfort had relaxed her to the point where she actually slept through the crying. After a moment, Tim got up, slipping out of the room and making his way to the nursery. Being careful to avoid flicking on the overhead light, Tim made his way to the small dresser, turning on the small table lamp before going to the crib. He studied the baby for several minutes, before reaching down and scooping the infant up.

"Shh. Hush, _ahuva_." Gently, he held the little boy against his chest, hoping the beat of his heart and the sound of his voice would help soothe the baby. The familiar comfort of being held seemed to relax the infant briefly before he started to cry again. After quickly checking that the baby needed changing- he didn't- Tim turned back to the door. The most likely option was that he was hungry, but Ziva was sound asleep- so sound asleep she was snoring- and that meant he'd have to wake his wife up in order for him to be fed- and Ziva had fed the baby an hour earlier, so... but then again, Tim could be wrong about that. He couldn't remember if babies needed to eat every hour or not the first few days after birth. The other option was that the boy just wanted to be held-

After a moment, he slipped out of the room, going downstairs. Better to try what he was thinking, and if that didn't work, he'd wake his wife up.

He was silent as he slipped a CD into the player and turned it on, keeping the volume low so he didn't wake his wife. Once the music started playing, Tim adjusted his hold on the infant, humming softly. The music, the sound of his father's heart and the gentle swaying soon calmed the infant down, reducing his tears to soft hiccups.

 _There, nothing to be worried about, right? He's stopped crying. Clearly, this is what he wanted- to be held. Now just... just don't drop him or hurt him and maybe you can do this parenting thing._

Gently, Tim brushed a soft kiss to his son's head, breathing in the scent of his dark curls. It was a scent he would soon come to recognize- the beautiful scent of a baby, the kind of scent on a parent could recognize.

The baby whimpered, and Tim shifted, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and wrapping it around the infant; the boy seemed to settle against his father's skin, the heartbeat in his ear and the soft cotton of his father's shirt wrapped around him. Tim continued to sway, becoming lost in the feel of this tiny human being against his chest, with his wife's dark eyes and hair, and his nose and chin- so lost that he didn't hear the footsteps come into the living room.

Ziva was leaning against the wall near the living room entrance, dressed in a pair underwear and one of his old MIT shirts, preferring the underwear to his boxers just so there was less hassle with the bathroom, her long dark hair tumbling down her back in tangled curls. She was exhausted, but there was a small smile on her face. Tim met her gaze.

 _Uh-oh. Guess I'm caught._

"Sorry, sweetheart. I should have gotten you up, but you need your sleep-"

She chuckled, moving away from the wall and coming towards him. "It's okay, _ahuva_. This is what he wanted-" She reached out, gently running a hand over her son's head. The baby stared at her with wide eyes, sighing softly as Tim continued to sway. "He's perfectly happy to be with his _Abba_ , aren't you, Amal? Yeah, that's all you wanted, was to be held by Daddy..." She met her husband's gaze, reaching up to gently caress his cheek. A small laugh escaped her throat as she watched the baby's eyes begin to close, the swaying, sound of his father's heart and the feel of his father's shirt wrapped around him lulling the baby off to sleep. "He's gone back to sleep." Tim glanced down at his son, relaxing slightly.

"Thank God." She chuckled.

"Come on, let's put him back to bed."

Once the baby was back in his crib, the couple returned to their own room; Ziva shifted onto her side to face him, reaching up a hand to cradle his cheek. He studied her silently, picking out the features his son possessed, before sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She giggled as he gently nipped at her palm, before shaking her head and kissing him. Ziva then tucked her head beneath his chin, sliding her hand down his chest. She kissed his throat, pressing kiss after kiss to his skin, her hand moving down towards his pants-

He grabbed her hand, pulling her gently away and lacing their fingers. She looked up at him, clearly hurt. "Jeanne didn't give you the okay, remember? Six weeks."

She groaned, pulling away and laying her head back on the pillow. "I don't _care_ , Tim." She met his gaze. "I want you. I haven't had you for nine months, and I _want_ you." She pushed him onto his back, sitting up. "Don't you want me?"

He met her gaze, playing with her fingers. _Oh, God, absolutely. How could I not?_ He nodded. "Of course I do. But we need the okay first. You're still bleeding, and the last thing I want to do is risk you getting an infection." She sighed, realizing he was right. After a moment, she laid down, settling herself on his chest and tucking her head beneath his chin. Slowly, she lifted their joined hands, studying them, before gently nipping the space between his thumb and index finger and then allowing his heartbeat to lull her to sleep.


End file.
